"As
and cried as hard as Dotty
there was nobody to see, he just hers
The above picture
is
one of twenty-seven which illustrate
THE NEW-YEAR'S BARGAIN. BY SUSAN
COOLIDGE.
The author of this book must soon be exalted in the hearts of children by the side of Miss Alcott for it is as original, as quaint, and as charming as " Aunt Jo's," though totally different in character and style. any thing of Max and Thekla, the hero and heroine, live in the famous Black Forest. Wandering in the woods one day, they came across an old man who was and the images were some images. This old man was Father Time, making the " sands of time," and the twelve months. He had a jar full of sand, Max put some of it in his pocket, when old Father Time wasn't looking, and carried it home. This stealing from Time caused a great commotion, though Max con" tended that " Time belongs to us all " but it resulted in a Bargain," which the book will tell you all about. " The New- Year's Bargain " is an elegant volume, bound in cloth, gilt and black-lettered, and sells for $2.00. :
;
ROBERTS BROTHERS,
PUBLISHERS, Boston.
Eight o'clock
;
The postman's knock Five
letters for
One
!
Papa ;
for
Lou, And none for you. And three for dear Mamma.
A Book of Original New Nursery Rhymes, by Miss ROSSETTI, contains one hundred and twenty songs, and an illustration to each gong
SING-SONG.
by ARTHUR HUGHES. One elegant square and gilt lettered. Price, 2.00.
POSIES FOE CHILDRENLOWELL.
Square 16mo.
A Book
8vo,
bound
of Verse, selected
in cloth, black
by Mrs.
ANNA
C.
Price, 75 cents.
MAX AND MAURICE, T.
BROOKS,
is
A Youthful History, translated by Rey. CHARLES one of the drollest works ever made. It is immensely
popular with young and old.
Fully illustrated.
Price,
1.25.
PUCK'S NIGHTLY PRANKS. Illustrated with Silhouette by PAUL KONEWKA. Fancy covers. Price, 50 cents.
ROBERTS BROTHERS,
Pictures,
PUBLISHERS, Boston.
"
Sing, Tessa
;
sing
!
" cried
Tommo, twanging away
with
all
his might.
PAGE
47.
'The memory
of those thirteen pink tails has haunted
me
ever since."
PAGE
9.
AUNT
Jo's MY
SCRAP-BAG.
BOYS, ETC.
BY LOUISA M. ALCOTT, AUTHOR OF "LITTLE WOMEN," " AN OLD-FASHIONED
GIBL," "LITTLE MEN,"
"HOSPITAL SKETCHES."
BOSTON: ROBERTS BROTHERS. 1872.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1871, by
LOUISA M. ALCOTT, In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington.
CAMBRIDGE: PRESS OF JOHN WILSON AND SON.
PREFACE. A
S grandmothers rummage
their
piece-bags
and bundles in search of gay odds and ends to make
gifts
stockings that
hang
with which to all in
the
fill
little
a row on Christmas
Eve, so I have gathered together some stories, old
and new,
so rapidly
amuse the large family that has
to
and beautifully grown up about me.
I hope that
when they promenade
caps and gowns the ure,
little
to
rifle
the
" dears " will utter an "
and give a prance of
pull out
plump
this small gift
CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS, 1871-72.
Oh
in
stockings,
" !
night-
of pleas-
satisfaction, as they
from Aunt Jo's scrap-
CONTENTS. PAGE
MY
BOYS
1
TESSA'S SURPRISES
35
Buzz
58
THE CHILDREN'S JOKE
.
DANDELION
MADAM
A
91
CLUCK, AND HER FAMILY
100
CURIOUS CALL
TILLY'S CHRISTMAS
MY
67
Ill .
123
.
LITTLE GENTLEMAN
134
BACK WINDOWS
148
LITTLE MARIE OF LEHON
158
MY
176
MAY-DAY AMONG CURIOUS BIRDS AND BEASTS
OUR LITTLE NEWSBOY PATTY'S
PATCHWORK
186 :
193
MISS LOUISA M. ALOOTT'S
RECENT NEW WORKS. LITTLE WOMEN. PART LITTLE WOMEN.
FIRST.
PART SECOND.
AN OLD-FASHIONED
GIRL.
LITTLE MEN.
HOSPITAL SKETCHES AND CAMP AND FIRE SIDE STORIES.
It is quite safe to
" say that the author of
Little
Women "
is,
to-
day, the literary idol of the American fireside. Within three years her books have achieved an unparalleled success, delighting and instructing legions of readers.
$T" tion,
All of Miss AlcoWs
have our name on their are
now bound
RECENT NEW WORKS
title-pages as
in a
unthout excepher authorized publishers.
new
style of binding, to distinguish had, put up in a nent box, labelled Women Library," the five volumes, price, $7.50 ; or, separately, $1.50 each.
They
them from " Little
imitations,
and
may be
ROBERTS BROTHERS,
PUBLISHERS, Boston.
AUNT
JO'S
MY G that in
my
SCKAP-BAG.
BOYS.
I have been unusually fortunate
knowledge of a choice and pleasing
variety of this least appreciated portion of the
human
have a fancy to record some of my experiences, hoping that it may awaken an interest in other minds, and cause other people to cultivate the
race, I
delightful,
but too often neglected boys,
who now
run to waste, so to speak. I have often wondered what they thought of the peculiar treatment they receive, even at the hands of their nearest friends.
While they
are rosy, roly-
poly little fellows they are petted and praised, adorned and adored, till it is a miracle that they are not utterly ruined. But the moment they outgrow their
babyhood
their trials begin,
and they are
re-
AUNT
2
garded as nuisances
JO'S SCRAP-BAG. they are twenty-one,
till
when
they are again received into favor.
Yet
that very time of neglect
is
the period
when
they most need all manner of helps, and ought to have them. I like boys and oysters raw ; so, though good
manners are always pleasing, I don't mind the rough outside burr which repels most people, and perhaps that
is
the reason
why
the burrs open and let
me
see
the soft lining and taste the sweet nut hidden inside.
My first well-beloved
boy was a
certain Frank, to
whom I
clung at the age of seven with a devotion which I fear he did not appreciate. There, were six girls in
the house, but I would have nothing to say
to them, preferring to tag after Frank, and perfectly
happy when he allowed
me
to play with him.
I
was something amusements was
regret to say that the small youth
of a tyrant, and one of his favorite
trying to make me cry by slapping my hands with books, hoop-sticks, shoes, any thing that came along capable of giving a good stinging blow. I believe I
endured these marks of friendship with the fortitude of a young Indian, and felt fully repaid for a blistered
MY
BOYS.
3
" palm by hearing Frank tell the other boys She 's a little thing, and you can't make her cry."
brave
My
romping with him in the long manufactory behind our house. was to mount one of the cars on which
chief joy
was
in
galleries of a piano
What
bliss it
rolled heavy loads from room to room, and to go thundering down the inclined planes, re-
the
workmen
gardless of the crash that usually awaited us at the
bottom!
If I could have played foot-ball on the
Common
with
my
As
Frank and Billy Babcock,
me no
could have offered
life
greater joy at that period.
the prejudices of society forbid this sport, I
revenged myself by driving hoop all around the mall without stopping, which the boys could not do. I can
remember
certain
happy evenings, when we
snuggled in sofa corners and planned tricks and ate stolen goodies, and sometimes Frank would put his curly head in my lap and let me stroke it when he
was
tired.
What
the girls did I don't recollect;
their domestic plays
were not to
my taste,
and the
only figure that stands out from the dimness of the past
is
that jolly
boy with a twinkling
eye.
This
AUNT
4
memory would be
JO'S SCRAP-BAG. quite radiant but for one sad
a deed that cut
thing,
me
to the soul then,
and
which I have never quite forgiven in all these years. On one occasion I did something very naughty, and when called up
for
judgment
fled to the dining-
room, locked the door, and from defied the whole world.
my
I could have
stronghold
made my own
was near dinner-time and the family
terms, for
it
must
eat
but, alas, for the treachery of the
heart
!
;
Frank betrayed me.
He
human
climbed in at the
window, unlocked the door, and delivered me up to the foe. Nay, he even defended the base act, and helped bear the struggling culprit to imprisonment. That nearly broke my heart, for I believed Tie would stand by It
me
as staunchly as I always stood
was a sad blow, and
by him. him
I couldn't love or trust
Peanuts and candy, ginger-snaps and any more. were unavailing; even foot-ball could not
car-rides
reunite the broken friendship, recollect the
I lost
my
pang
that entered
faith in the loyalty of
The second attachment was
and to
this
heart
my my first boy. little
day
I
when
of quite a different
MY sort,
BOYS.
and had a happier ending.
home
5
At
the mature age
a family of gay and kindly people in well, why not say right out ? Providence. There were no children, and at often, I left
first
I did not
for
my first
visit to
mind
this, as
every one petted me,
young men named Christopher. So kind and patient, yet so merry was this good
especially one of the
him
Christy that I took ular boy, and loved
him
for
my
private and partic-
dearly, for
he got
me
out
of innumerable scrapes, and never was tired of
amusing the in
restless little girl
a fever of anxiety
by her
who kept
the family
pranks.
He
never
laughed at her mishaps and mistakes, never played tricks upon her like a certain William who composed the most trying nicknames, and wickedly goaded the
wild visitor into
all
manner of naughtiness.
Christy
stood up for her through every thing ; let her ride the cows, feed the pigs, bang on the piano, and race all
over the spice mill, feasting on cinnamon and
down from housetops and fished never scolded, and never seemed
cloves; brought her
her out of brooks tired of the
ment.
;
troublesome friendship of
little
Tor-
AUNT
6
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
In a week I had exhausted every amusement and It has always been my
was desperately homesick.
opinion that I should have been speedily restored
bosom of
to the
my
family but for Christy, and but
him I should assuredly have ran away before the second week was out. He kept me, and in the for
hour of
my
disgrace stood
by me
like a
man and
a brother.
One
afternoon, inspired
by a
spirit
of benevolence,
but short-sighted, I collected several poor children in the barn and regaled them on cake enthusiastic
and
figs,
helping myself freely to the treasures of
the pantry without asking leave, meaning to explain afterward. Being discovered before the supplies were entirely exhausted, the patience of the longsuffering matron gave out, and I was ordered up to sins,
and the pleasing
home with
the character of
the garret to reflect upon
prospect of being sent
my
the worst child ever known.
My
sufferings
little
trunk
hard
it
all
were deep as I
sat
upon a fuizy
alone in the dull garret, thinking
was to do
right,
and wondering why
I
how was
MY
BOYS.
scolded for feeding the poor
bidden to do
7
when we were
expressly
I felt myself an outcast, and be-
so.
wailed the disgrace I had brought upon my family. Nobody could possibly love such a bad child ; and if
the mice were to
come and
a la Bishop Hatto,
At
it
eat
me
then and there,
would only be a
relief to
dark moment I heard Christy say below, "She meant it kindly, so I wouldn't mind, Fanny;" and then up came my boy full of
my
friends.
this
sympathy and comfort. Seeing the of
my
face,
an old
and
tragic expression
he said not a word, but,
chair,
took
me on
his
quietly, letting the action
down
sitting
knee and held speak for
me
in
close
itself.
It
did most eloquently; for the kind arm seemed to
take
me
back from that dreadful
friendly face to assure
me
not sinned beyond forgiveness. I had not shed a tear before, but tempestuously, and clung to little
held
when
mariner in a storm.
me
fast
and
let
me
and the
exile,
without words that I had
him
now
I cried
like a
shipwrecked Neither spoke, but he
cry myself to sleep
the shower was over, a pensive peace
fell
;
for,
upon
AUNT
8
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
me, and the dim old garret seemed not a prison, but a haven of refuge, since my boy came to share it
How
with me.
long I slept I don't know, but
must have been an hour,
at least;
yet
my
Christy never stirred, only waited patiently
woke up in the twilight and was not he was there. He took me down
it
good till
I
afraid because
meek
as
as a
mouse, and kept me by him all that trying evening, screening me from jokes, rebukes, and sober looks ;
and when I went to bed he came up to to assure
me
not be reported at home. heart, telling
and
him
I
kiss
me, and
that this awful circumstance should
remember
I never
This took a load off
my
fervently thanking him, and
would forget
it.
I never have, though he died long ago, and others
have probably forgotten I often longed to ask
all
about the naughty prank.
him how he knew the
way
to win a child's heart
thy,
and tender little acts that have kept
by the
green for nearly thirty years. Cy was a comrade after my
summer
or
surest
patience, sympa-
own
his
heart,
two we kept the neighborhood
memory
and
for a
in a fer-
MY
BOYS.
9
ment by our adventures and hair-breadth
knew
I think I never
a boy so
full
escapes.
of mischief, and
opportunities of judging have been manifold. did not get into scrapes himself, but possessed a splendid talent for .deluding others into them, and
my He
"
then morally remarking, " There, I told you so His way of saying " You dars'nt do this or that," !
was
like fire to
those It
powder
and why I
;
live in the
all
was he who incited me
beam
still
my limbs and senses is a miracle to who know my youthful friendship with Cy.
possession of
in the barn to
to
a pair of sprained ankles. to rub
my
jump
off of the highest
be borne home on a board with It
was he who dared me
eyes with red peppers, and then sympa-
thizingly led
me home
blind and roaring with pain.
was he who solemnly assured me that all the little pigs would die in agony if their tails were not cut It
off,
and won
me
to hold thirteen little squealers
while the operation was performed.
innocent pink
tails
haunt
of that deed has given to pork.
me
me
Those thirteen
and the memory a truly Jewish aversion yet,
AUNT
10 I did not
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
know him
long, but
he was a kindred
He soul, and must have a place in my list of boys. is a big, brown man now, and having done his part in the war, is at work on his farm. We meet sometunes, it is
and though we try to be
quite impossible
eye that upsets laughing at the
My Augustus lover,
there
my gravity, memory
is
dignified
and we always burst out
of our early
met
oh,
!
this
my fate.
and proper,
a sly twinkle in Cy's
my Augustus and the most romantic of
fifteen I
found
;
!
frolics.
my first little my boys. At
charming youth, and thought I had was at a spelling school in a little
It
country town where I, as a stranger and visitor from Painfully concity, was an object of interest.
the
scious of this fact, I sat in a corner trying to look
easy and elegant, with a large red
bow under my
and a carnelian ring in full view. Among the boys and girls who frolicked about me, I saw one lad of seventeen with "large blue eyes, a noble chin,
brow, and a beautiful straight nose," as I described him in a letter to my sister. This attractive youth
had a
certain air of refinement
and ease of manner
MY that the others lacked
;
BOYS.
11
and when I found he was the
minister's son, I felt that I might admire him without " loss of dignity. sensations," as Miss Imagine
my
Burney's Evelina says,
when this boy came and talked
to me, a little bashfully at
and invited
me
first,
but soon quite
freely,
to a huckleberry party next day.
had observed that he was one of the best
I
spellers.
was quite elegant he even quoted Byron, and rolled his eyes in a most I also observed that his language
;
engaging manner, not to mention that he asked who me my ring, and said he depended on escorting
gave
me
to the berry pasture.
Dear me, how interesting it was and when I found !
myself next day, field (full
sitting
of boys and
ing), with the amiable
supplying
me
under a tree in the sunny
girls, all
Augustus
with bushes to
strip
about books and poetry, I really into a novel,
and enjoyed
it
more or at
less lover-
my feet, gallantly while
we
felt as if I
immensely.
I believe a
dim idea that Gus was sentimental hovered mind, but I would not encourage in
my
sleeve
when he was
it,
talked
had got in
my
though I laughed
spouting
Latin for
my
AUNT
12
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
and was uncertain whether to box
benefit,
or simper later in the day,
his ears
when he languished over
the gate, and said he thought chestnut hair the loveliest in
the world.
Poor, dear boy! full
how innocent and
soft-hearted
and
of splendid dreams he was, and what deliciously
romantic times
we had
floating
on the pond, while
the frogs sung to his accordion, as he tried to say unutterable things with his honest blue eyes.
makes me shiver now and the damp; but
it
It
to think of the mosquitoes
was Pauline and Claude Mel-
when
I went home we promised to be true to one another, and write every week during the year he was away at school.
notte then, and
We parted,
not in tears by any means
of nonsense comes
later,
when
;
that sort
the romance
is less
but quite jolly and comfortable, and I
childish,
hastened to pour forth the thrilling tale to my faithfill sister, who approved of the match, being a perfect "
mush
of sentiment
"
herself.
was not a very ardent flame, however, for Gus did not write every week, and I did not care a I fear
it
MY
BOYS.
13
and gave it a happened to think of it, while he sent messages now and then, and devoted himself to his studies like an ambitious boy as he bit
;
nevertheless, I kept his picture
sentimental sigh
when
I
him
I hardly expected to see
was.
again, but soon
year was out, to my great surprise he I was so fluttered by the appearance of his
after the called.
card that I rather lost
thing that
and did such a
my head,
makes me laugh even now.
it
chestnut hair, and, pulling out
my
He
silly
liked
combs, I rushed
down, theatrically dishevelled, hoping to impress lover with my ardor and my charms. I expected to find little fusion, a tall
Gus
;
but, to
my great
my
con-
being with a beaver in his hand rose to
meet me, looking
so big
and handsome and generally
imposing, that I could not recover myself for several minutes, and mentally wailed for
my combs, feeling an untidy simpleton. I don't know whether he thought me a little cracked or not, but he was very friendly and pleas-
like
ant,
and told
another
visit,
me
his plans,
and hoped
and smoothed
I
his beaver,
would make and
let
me
AUNT
14
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
and behaved himself
see his tail-coat,
love-passages, being shy,
and I blessed him
know what rash
for really, I don't
like a dear,
He" did .not allude to our
conceited, clever boy.
for
it
;
thing I might have
done under the exciting circumstances.
Just as he
was going, however, he forgot his cherished hat for a minute, put out both hands, and said heartily, with his old boyish laugh,
"
Now
you
berrying, and
The
will come, all
and
the rest of
blue eyes were
full
we'll
it
my
little
But
fever,
behind
I never went,
lover any more, for
dead of a
we ? "
of iun and feeling, too, I
fancied, as I blushingly retired
gave the promise.
go boating and
again, won't
my locks
and
and never saw
m a few weeks he was
brought on by too
much
study,
and so ended the sad history of my fourth boy. After this, for many years, I was a boyless being ; but was so busy I did not tion
till
I
and found
went to the
my
little
feel
my
sergeant.
told elsewhere, but the sequel to for
Baby B.
still
destitute condi-
hospital during the war,
writes to
His story has been it is
a pleasant one,
me now and
then, asks
MY
BOYS.
15
advice about his future, and gladdens
news of
As
his success as a business
if to
it
me
with good
in Kansas.
atone for the former dearth, a sudden
shower of most superior boys recovered from my campaign. best sort
man
was
my
fortune to
fell
upon me,
after I
Some of the very know and like, real
and jolly times they had, gentlemen, yet boys still, the town with their energetic old stirring up quiet society.
There was W., a
stout, amiable youth,
who would
"stand in the middle of a strawberry patch, with his
hands in
a
week
vow
his pockets,
let
us feed him luxuri-
who came once
to confess his sins, beat his breast in despair,
awful vows of repentance, and then cheer-
fully depart, to
break every one of them in the next
twenty-four hours. J.
and
B., a delightful scapegrace,
ously.
S.
the gentle-hearted giant;
the dandy ; sober, sensible B.
knight without reproach or
;
and
E., the
young
fear.
But my especial boy of the batch was A., proud and cold and shy to other people, sad and serious sometimes when his good heart and tender con-
AUNT
16 science
showed him
JO'S SCRAP-BAG. his short-comings,
sympathy and a kind word. I could not get at him as easily
but so grate-
ful for
as I could the
other lads, but, thanks to Dickens, I found
him out
at last.
We "
played Dolphus and Sophy Tetterby in the at one of the school festivals ; and
Haunted Man,"
during the rehearsals I discovered that
my
Dolphus
was
permit the expression, oh, well-bred readers a trump. What fun we had, to be sure, acting !
the droll and pathetic scenes together, with a
of little Tetterbys skirmishing about us
time he has been
my
and I
swarm
From
!
that
Sophy, and yellow-haired laddie don't forget me, though he
my Dolphus
his
has a younger Sophy now, and some small Tetterbys of his own. He writes just the same affectionate letters as
he used to do, though
I,
less faithful,
am
too busy to answer them.
But the
my
best and dearest of
Polish boy,
coughs and a sneeze fectly.
all
my
Ladislas Wisniewski, will give
Six years ago, as I went
you the
down
to
flock
was
two
hic-
name
my
per-
early
MY
BOYS.
17
breakfast at our Pension in Vevey, I
stranger had arrived.
He was
a
saw that a
tall
youth, of
eighteen or twenty, with a thin, intelligent face, and the charmingly polite manners of a foreigner. As
the other boarders came
in, one by one, they left the door open, and a draught of cold autumn air blew in from the stone corridor, making the new comer
cough, shiver, and cast wistful glances toward the
warm corner by the stove. My place was there, and the heat often oppressed me, so I was glad of an opportunity to move.
A word and
to
Madame Vodoz
at dinner I
from the poor
effected the
was rewarded by a
fellow, as
change ;
grateful smile
he nestled into
his
warm
pause of surprise and a flush -of pleasure at the small kindness from a stranger. were seat, after a
We
too far apart to talk much, but, as he the Pole
bowed
filled his glass,
to me, and said low in French, "
" I drink the
good health to Mademoiselle." I returned the wish, but he shook his head with a sudden shadow on
his face, as if the
more than mere compliment 2
to him;
words meant
AUNT
18
"That boy
is
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
and needs
sick
care.
I
must
see to
him," said I to myself, as I met him in the afternoon,
and observed the military look of his blue and white I suit, as he touched his cap and smiled pleasantly. have a weakness
brave boys in blue, and having
for
discovered that he had been in the late Polish Revolution,
my heart wanned
to
him
That evening he came to
at once.
me
in the salon,
and
expressed his thanks in the prettiest broken English
So
I ever heard.
simple, frank,
and grateful was he
won his little story from an hour we were friends. With
that a few words of interest
him, and in half
his fellow-students
outbreak,
had
he had fought through the last and hardship
suffered imprisonment
rather than submit,
had
lost
many Mends,
his for-
tune and his health, and at twenty, lonely, poor,
and
ill,
seemed
was trying bravely to cure the malady which fatal.
" If I recover
myself of
this affair in the
I teach the music to acquire hospitable country. find a refuge,
At
Paris,
chest,
my bread in this so my friends, all two,
and I go to them
in spring if I die
MY not here.
Yes,
it is
BOYS.
solitary,
and
19 memories are
my
not gay, but I have my work, and the good God remains always to me, so I content myself with
much
hope, and I wait."
Such genuine piety and courage increased my respect and regard immensely, and a few minutes later
he added to both by one of the better than words.
little
acts that
show character
He
told
me
place, "
when down by Cossacks in
about the massacre,
Poles were shot
five
hundred
the market-
merely because they sung their national hymn.
Play me that forbidden air," I said, wishing to judge of his skill, for I had heard him practising
softly in the afternoon.
He
rose willingly, then glanced about the
and gave a
little
shrug which
made me
room
ask what he
wanted. " I
look to see
Russian, and to pleasing." " Then
play
it.
if
him
He
the Baron
my
here.
is
dare not forbid
should rather enjoy that
He
is
national air will not be
little insult
it
here,
and I
to your bitter
20
AUNT
,
enemy," said
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
feeling very indignant with every
I,
thing Russian just.then. " Ah, mademoiselle, it
we
true
is
we
are enemies, but
are also gentlemen," returned the boy, proving
that he at least I thanked
was
him
one.
for his lesson in politeness,
and as
the Baron was not there he played the beautiful
hymn, singing danger to his
it
enthusiastically in
weak
lungs.
A
spite
of the
true musician evi-
dently, for, as he sung his pale face glowed, his eyes
shone, and his lost vigor seemed restored to him.
From
that evening
memory
we were
fast friends
of certain dear lads at
heart open to this lonely boy,
;
for the
home made my who gave me in
He " as his mother him did. me to call Varjo," begged He constituted himself my escort, errand-boy, return the most grateful affection and service.
French teacher, and private musician, making those weeks infinitely pleasant by his winning ways, his charming
little
confidences,
We had much fun him about
and
faithful friendship.
over our lessons, for I helped
his English.
With
a great interest in
MY free
BOYS.
21
America, and an intense longing to hear about unknown tongue did not
our war, the barrier of an
us. Beginning with my bad broken English, we got on capitally ;
long stand between
French and
his
me
but he outdid
entirely,
making astonishing prog-
though he often slapped
ress,
his forehead, with the
despairing exclamation, " I
am
imbecile
I never can will shall to have "
!
learn this beast of English
But he
did,
and
in a
!
month had added a new
language to the five he already possessed. His music was the delight of the house often gave us Teiblin, a
little
German
;
and he
concerts with the help of Madam St. Cecelia,
with a cropped head
and a gentlemanly sack, cravat, and collar. Both were enthusiasts, and the longer they played the
more
inspired they got.
The piano
vibrated, the
danced in their sockets, mute while the four white hands
stools creaked, the candles
and every one
sat
chased one another up and
two
fine faces
down
the keys, and the
beamed with such ecstacy
that
we
almost expected to see instrument and performers disappear in a musical whirlwind.
AUNT
22
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
Lake Leman will never seem so lovely again as when Laddie and I roamed about its shores, floated on
its
bosom, or laid splendid plans for the future in
the sunny garden of the old chateau.
I tried
it
again last year, but the charm was gone, for I missed
my boy
with his fun, his music, and the frank, fresh
he gave
affection
on
his " little
mamma," as he insisted who loved him like half
calling the lofty spinster
a dozen grandmothers rolled into one.
December
roses blossomed in the gardens then,
and Laddie never for
me
at dinner.
" confidences " in
have a
tucked under
my
a great history
Few
a posy ready
evenings passed without
corner of the salon, and I
my
pile of merry
to have
failed
little
door.
still
notes which I used to find
He
we were
called
to
them chapters of and
write together,
" being a "polisson he illustrated it with droll picand a tures, funny mixture of French and English
romance. It
was very
pleasant, but like all pleasant things
in this world of change
When
I left for Italy
it
soon came to an end.
we jokingly agreed
to
meet in
MY Paris the next
BOYS.
23
May, but neither
really felt that
we
should ever meet again, for Laddie hardly expected to outlive the winter,
be forgotten. tears in
my
and I
As he
felt
kissed
sure I should soon
my
hand there were
boy's eyes, and a choke in the voice that
tried to say cheerfully,
"
Bon
voyage, dear and good
little
mamma.
I do
not say adieu, but au revoir"
Then
the carriage rolled away, the wistful face
vanished,
memory
and nothing remained to me but the little stain on my glove
of Laddie, and a
where a drop had fallen. As I drew near Paris six months
later,
and found
myself wishing that I might meet Yarjo in the great,
gay
city,
my
doing
but, as I
and wondering if there was any chance of it, I never dreamed of seeing him so soon ;
made my way among
the crowd of passen-
gers that poured through the station, feeling tired,
bewildered, and homesick, I suddenly saw a blue
and white cap wave wildly in the air, then Laddie's face appeared, and Laddie's eager hands
beaming
grasped mine so cordially that I began to laugh at
AUNT
24 once,
and
felt
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
that Paris
was almost
as
good as
home. "
Ah, ha
behold the
!
mamma, who
little
thought to see again her bad son!
make
greatly glad that I
you come
me
the
all
weaiy to I
billets, for
and go to find the
He we
got
meet
me
tended to
still
put
away
me
into a carriage,
I asked
so unexpectedly. stay,
Give to
mademoiselle's servant
coffers."
my trunks,
rolled merrily
am
the fine surprise for you as
this place of noise.
am
did not
Yes, I
and as
how he chanced
Knowing where I
to in-
he had called occasionally till I of the day and hour of my
notified
Madame D.
arrival,
and then he had come to "make the
fine
He
enjoyed the joke like a true boy, and I was glad to see how well he looked, and how gay he seemed. surprise."
"You
are better?" I said. "I truly hope so. The winter was good to
and I cough enlarge
a
little
less.
my fear by
It
is
a small hope, but I
a sad face.
purse, so that I
may
I yet
me
do not
work and save
not be a heaviness to
MY those
and
who have
BOYS.
the charity to finish
25
me
if I fall
back
yet.die."
I would not hear of that, and told
him he looked
and happy as if he had found a fortune. laughed, and answered with his fine bow,
as well
He have.
Behold, you come
to
make
"I
the fete for me.
my friends Joseph and Napoleon. mouses of the church, as you say, but brave boys, and we work together with much gayety." When I asked if he had leisure to be my guide I find also here
Poor
as
about Paris, for
my time
was short and
see every thing, he pranced,
and told
I
wanted to
me he had prom-
and had planned many excurmost wonderful, charming, and gay. Then, having settled me at Madam e's, he went blithely away to what I afterward discovered were very poor
ised himself a holiday, sions the
lodgings, across the river.
Next day began the
pleasantest fortnight in
all
Laddie appeared early, elegant my to behold in a new hat and buff gloves, and was year of travel.
immensely amused because the servant informed my big son had arrived.
that
me
26
.ir.vr jo's
SCRAP-BAG.
I believe the first thing a
to
a
buy
let "
my
pering
bonnet.
son " do
it
woman
does in Paris
and
in the best of French, only whis-
feathers, that I could not afford
Ah we
is
by and
I did, or rather stood
when he proposed gorgeous chapeaus
flowers
"
new
full
of
it.
must make our economies, must we
!
?
See, then, this modest, pearl-colored one, with the
crape rose.
Yes,
elegant for the
we
will
have
that,
and be most
Sunday promenade."
I fear I should have bought a pea-green hat with a
yellow plume droll
were
if
his
he had urged it, so wheedlesome and His good taste ways and words*.
saved me, however, and the modest one was sent for the morrow, when we were to meet Joseph and Napoleon and go to the concert in the Tuileries
home
garden.
Then we
set off
on our day of
sight-seeing,
and
Laddie proved himself an excellent guide. "We had a charming trip about the enchanted city, a
gay lunch Louvre.
at a cafe,
and a
At dinner-time
first
brief glimpse of the
I found a posy at
my place
;
and afterward Laddie came and spent the evening
MY
BOYS.
27
my little salon, playing to me, and having what he called "babblings and pleasantries." I found " into Polish, that he was translating " Vanity Fair in
and intended to
sell it at
home.
He
convulsed
me
with his struggles to put cockney English and slang into good Polish, for he had saved up a list of
words
me
for
bean-pot were
to
explain to him.
among them,
I
Haystack and and when ;
remember
he had mastered the meanings he
fell
upon the
sofa
exhausted.
Other days life
like this followed,
together; for
my
and we led a happy
twelve years' seniority made
our adventures quite proper, and I fearlessly went anywhere on the arm of my big son. Not to theatres or balls,
for Laddie,
however, for heated rooms were bad
but pleasant trips out of the city in
the bright spring weather, quiet strolls in the gardens, moonlight concerts in the or,
best of
all,
Champs Elysees;
long talks with music in the
little
red
with the gas turned low, and the ever-changing scenes of the Rue de Rivoli under the balcony. salon,
Never were pleasures more cheaply purchased or
AUNT
28
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
more thoroughly enjoyed, for our hearts were as " little economies " light as our purses, and our gave amusements.
zest to our
Joseph and Napoleon sometimes joined
my
felt in
boys, for
us,
and I
element with the three invalid soldier
Napoleon
still
limped with a wound
re-
ceived in the war, Joseph had never recovered from his
two
imprisonment in an Austrian dun-
years'
geon, and Laddie's loyalty might yet
cost
him
his
life.
Thanks
me by my
to them, I discovered a joke played
"polisson"
drogha," saying
innocently did ure in
Using
it,
it
it
so,
He
meant
"
my
upon "
ma
friend," in Polish.
I
told
me
to call
him
and he seemed to find great plea-
for his eyes always laughed when I said it. one day before the other lads, I saw a queer
twinkle in their eyes, and, suspecting mischief, demanded the real meaning of the words. Laddie tried to silence them, but the joke
was too good
to
keep, and I found to my dismay that I had been " " manner. calling him my darling in the tenderest
How the
three rascals shouted, and
what a vain
MY struggle
it
BOYS.
was to try and preserve
29
my
dignity
when
Laddie clasped his hands and begged pardon, explaining that jokes were necessary to his health, and he never meant
me
this " pleasantrie
!
to
"
him some bad English ing him of it just as I It
was not
his troubles,
all
and
know
the
full
baseness of
I revenged myself
by giving and tell-
for his translation, left Paris.
fun with
my boy^
however
what heartache was.
Walking
romance of
romance
as
he had
his
he told
and frequent pauses
it,
life.
A
knew
in the quaint garden
of the Luxembourg one day, he confided to little
;
in spite of his cheerfulness he
me
very touching
the
little
with eloquent eyes and voice I cannot give his
for breath.
words, but the simple facts were these:
He had grown up
with a pretty cousin, and at -in love with her. She
eighteen was desperately
returned his affection, but they could not be happy, for her father
wished her to marry a richer man.
In Poland, to marry without the consent of parents is to incur lasting disgrace ; so Leonore obeyed, and the
young
pair parted.
This had been a heavy sor-
AUNT
30
row
to Laddie,
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
and he rushed into the war hoping
to end his trouble. "
" Do
you ever hear from your cousin ? I asked, he walked beside me, looking sadly down the green aisles where kings and queens had loved and as
parted years ago.
"I only know that she suffers still, for she rememHer husband submits to the Russians, and I
bers.
"
him as I have no English to tell ; and he clenched his hands with the flash of the eye and despise
sudden kindling of the whole face that made him handsome.
He showed me
a faded
little picture,
tried to comfort him, he laid his
pedestal of one of the marble queens
walk, as if he never cared to
But he was
all
right in
and when I
head down on the
lift it
who guard
the
up again.
a minute, and bravely
put away his sorrow with the little picture. He never spoke of it again, and I saw no more shadows
on
his face
"
You
till
we came
to say good-by.
have been so kind to me, I wish I had some-
thing beautiful to give you, Laddie," I said, feeling that it would be hard to get on without my boy.
MY " This time venir, give to
As he
it
me
BOYS.
31
is for always ; so, as a parting southe sweet English good-by."
said this, with a despairing sort of look, as
he could not spare even so humble a friend as myself, my heart was quite rent within me, and, re*gard-
if
less tall
of several prim English ladies, I drew down his head and kissed him tenderly, feeling that in
world there were no more meetings for us. I ran away and buried myself in an empty railway carriage, hugging the little cologne bottle he this
Then
had given me.
He promised to write, and for five years he has kept his word, sending me from Paris and Poland cheery, bright letters in English, at
that he might not forget.
Here
is
my
desire, so
one as a speci-
men. "
MY DEAR
think of
AND GOOD FRIEND,
What do you Ex-
that I do not write so long time ?
good mamma, for I was so busy in these could not do this pleasant thing. I write
cuse me,
days I
me
my
English without the fear that you laugh at
it,
be-
AUNT
32 cause I
know
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
more agreeable to read the own
it is
language, and I think you are not excepted of this It is good of me, for the expressions of love and regard, made with faults, take the funny appearance they are ridicule, and instead to go to the
rule.
;*
heart, they make the laugh. " You cannot
Never mind,
imagine yourself
Paris
when you
make no more self to
am
my
know
fetes,
table
not vain,
themselfs
am
vile,
the end.
are gone.
and I
?).
it is
I fly to
my
too sad alone.
my Vanity I wish
that I send I have a
how
I do
is
work, and I tie
my-
(not of mine, for I
some chapters to
them
little
it.
stupide
finish
to Pologne
and
question to ask you
(of Vanity as always). I cannot translate this, no one of dictionnaires makes me the words, and I
think
it
is
jargon de prison,
this
little
period.
Behold: '
'
'
Mopy, is that your snum ? Nubble your dad and gully the dog/ &c.
" So funny things I cannot explain myself, so I send to you, and you reply sooner than without it.
MY you have
for
So
this is a little
you write some words
"My
is
hook
work you do not for you to make
to your son
who
likes it so
fond of you/
doctor
me my
tells
lungs are soon to be re-
you may imagine yourself how glad am, and of more courage in my future. You may
established I
33
so kind interest in ray
stay to wait.
much and
BOYS.
;
so
one day see your Varjo. in Amerique, if I study commerce as I wish. So then the last time of seeing ourselves
not the
is
last.
Is that to please
suppose the grand histoire
You
will then
send
it
to
is
me
at Varsovie, otherwise
the frontier "
it
pas f
M. Gryhomski
me
in clandestine
will
be confiscated at
by the stupide Russians. are dispersed in two sides of world
Now we
apart, for
soon I go
home
I
care of
Austriche, and he will give to
way
you ?
finished, n? est ce
to Pologne
and
more 'juif errant? It is now time I work in some useful way, and I do it.
far
am no at
my
life
" As I
you
my
Year,
am your grand fils, it is proper that I make compliment of happy Christmas and New
is it
not
?
I wish for
you so many as they
AUNT
34
may
fulfil
long
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
human
May
life.
this year bring
you more and more good hearts to love you (the only real happiness in the hard life), and may I be as
now, yours
for always,
VABJO,"
A year ago he sent me his
photograph and a few acknowledged the receipt of it, but since then not a word has come, and I begin to fear that lines.
I
my boy place,
is
dead.
Others have appeared to take his suit, and I keep his corner al-
but they don't
ways ready
for
him
known
he
if
lives.
If he
is
dead, I
am
and brave a character, for it does one good to see even as short-lived and obscure a hero as my Polish boy, whose dead Deglad to have
so sweet
cember rose embalms
for
the last and dearest of
me
the
memory
of Varjo,
my boys.
It is hardly necessary to add, for the satisfaction
of inquisitive
little
women, that Laddie was the
original of Laurie, as far as a pale
sketch could
embody a
pen and ink
living, loving boy.
TESSA'S SURPRISES. I.
T
ITTLE TESSA
""-^
by the fire, waiting come home from work. The
sat alone
for her father to
children were fast asleep,
behind the curtain
;
four in the big bed
all
the wind blew hard outside,
and the snow beat on the window-panes the room large, and the fire so small and feeble that it ;
was
Didn't half
warm
the
bare toes peeping out of
little
the old shoes on the hearth. Tessa's father
was an
not long ago, and care of the
Italian plaster- worker, very
and honest.
poor, but kind
little
left
The mother had died
twelve-year old Tessa to take
children.
She
tried to be very wise
and motherly, and worked for them like any little woman but it was so hard to keep the small bodies ;
w^arm and
fed,
and the small
that poor Tessa
was often
souls
good and happy, She
at her wits' end.
AUNT
36
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
always waited for her father, no matter how tired she was, so that he might find his supper warm, a bit of fire,
and a loving
face to
little
welcome him.
Tessa thought over her troubles at these quiet times, and made her plans ; for her father left things to her a good deal, and she had no friends but
Tommo,
the
harp-boy upstairs, and the lively cricket who lived in the chimney. To-night her face was very sober, and her pretty brown eyes very thoughtful as she stared at the
fire
and knit her brows,
She was not thinking of her old
as if perplexed.
shoes, nor the
empty
nor the boys' ragged clothes just then. ]STo ; she had a fine plan in her good little head, and was closet,
trying to discover
You
see,
how
she could carry
it
out.
Christmas was coming in a week ; and
she had set her heart on putting something in the children's stockings, as the
mother used to
while she lived things were comfortable.
had not
a
penny
to get one, for food,
fire,
and
all
in the world,
do, for
Now Tessa
and didn't know how
the father's earnings had to go for
rent.
"If there were only
fairies,
ah!
how heavenly that
TESSA'S SURPRISES. would be
for then, I
;
should
tell
them
37 all
I wish, "
said and, pop behold the fine things in ray lap Tessa to herself. " I must earn the money ; there is !
!
no one to give it to me, and I cannot beg. But what can I do, so small and stupid and shy as I am ? I
must
some way to give the little ones a nice must! I must! " and Tessa pulled her as if that would help her think.
find
Christmas.
long
hair,
But
it
I
didn't,
heavier; for full
it
and her heart got heavier and
did seem hard that in a great city
of fine things, there should be none for poor
Nono, Sep, and little Speranza. Just as Tessa's tears began to tumble off her eyelashes on to her cheeks, the cricket began to chirp. Of course, he didn't say a word ; but it really did seem as if he had answered her question almost as well as a fairy ;
brown
for,
before he
had piped a dozen
idea that she laughing. "
Tommo
an idea
clapped her hands and burst
"I'll
me," she said to fire.
shrill notes,
such a truly splendid
popped into Tessa's head, doit!
I'll
doit!
herself, smiling
will like to
and nodding
have
out
if father will let
me go
at the
with him
AUNT
38 and
sing, while
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
he plays his harp in the
streets.
I
songs, and may get money if I am not frightened ; for people throw pennies to other
know many little girls
will try
;
who only
and then,
play the tambourine.
if I
do
Yes, I
well, the little ones shall
have a Merry Christmas." So full of her plan was Tessa, that she ran upstairs at once, and asked Tommo if he would take her with
him on the morrow.
Her
friend
was
delighted, for
he thought Tessa's songs very sweet, and was sure she would get "
But
bites, is
if
money
and the snow
she tried. ;
the wind
freezes one's fingers.
The day
see, then, it is
cold in the streets
very long, people are cross,
ready to die with weariness. Tessa, I
am
afraid
Tommo, who was
it
will
and
at night
Thou
is
go badly with thee," said
a merry, black-eyed boy of four-
teen, with the kindest heart in the world
old jacket. " I do not
one
art so small,
mind cold and wet and
under
his
cross people, if
I can get the pennies," answered Tessa, feeling very
brave with such a friend to help her.
She thanked
TESSA'S SURPRISES. Torarao, and ran
away
39
to get ready, for she felt sure
her father would not refuse her any thing. She sewed up the holes in her shoes as well as she could,
had much of that sort of cobbling to do she mended her only gown, and laid ready the old hood for she
;
and shawl which had been her mother's. "Then she
washed out
little
Ranza's frock and put
because she would not be able to do
She for
set the table
Tommo
it
it
to dry,
the next day.
and got things ready for breakfast, early, and must not be kept
went out
waiting for her.
She longed to make the beds and was in such a
dress the children over night, she
hurry to have she sat
knew.
down
all in
again,
order
and
;
but, as that could not be,
tried over all the songs she
Six pretty ones were chosen
away with
all
her heart in a fresh
;
and she sung little
voice so
sweetly that the children smiled in their sleep, and
her father's tired face brightened as he entered, for
Tessa was his cheery cricket on the hearth. When she had told her plan, Peter Benari shook his head,
and thought
it
would never do
hard, he consented at
;
but Tessa begged so
last that she
should try
it
for
AUNT
40
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
one week, and sent her to bed the happiest New York.
little girl
in
Next morning the sun snow lay
blew, and the
wind
shone, but the cold
As
thick in the streets.
soon as her father was gone, Tessa flew about and
put everything in nice order, telling the children she
was going out
for the day,
and they were to mind see about the fire and
Tommo's mother, who would the dinner ; for the good entered into her
little
woman
plans with
all
loved Tessa, and her heart.
Nono
and Guiseppe, or Sep, as they called him,* wondered what she was going away for, and little Ranza cried but Tessa told them they would know and have a fine time if they were good; so they kissed her all round and let her go. at being left
about
all
Poor with
it
;
in a week,
Tessa's heart beat fast as she trudged
Tommo, who
away
slung his harp over his shoulder,
and gave her his hand. It was rather a dirty hand, but so kind that Tessa clung to it, and kept looking
up
at the friendly
"
brown
We go first to the
face for encouragement.
cafe,
where many French and
TESSA'S SURPRISES. Italians eat the breakfast.
You
like
my music,
and
me
sips of hot coffee, which I like much. too shall have the sips, and perhaps the pennies,
often give
for
They
41
these people are greatly kind," said
Tommo,
where many people sat at little tables, eating and drinking. " See, now, have no fear give them Bella Monica that is merry and will make the laugh," whispered leading her into a large
smoky
place,
'
'
;
;
Tommo,
tuning his harp.
For a moment Tessa
felt so
frightened that she
wanted to run away but she remembered the empty stockings at home, and the fine plan, and she re;
solved not to give
it
up.
One
fat old
Frenchman
seemed to help her very much for she began to sing before she thought, and that was the hardest part of it. Her voice trembled, and
nodded
to her,
and
it
;
her cheeks grew redder and redder as she went on
but she kept her eyes fixed on her
t)ld shoes,
;
and so
got through without breaking down, which was very nice. The people laughed, for the song was merry ;
and the
fat
man
smiled and nodded again.
This
gave her courage to try another, and she sung better
AUNT
42
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
and better each time
for
;
and kept whispering to is fine.
Tommo
her,
"
will give the
They
Yes
;
played his best,
we go
money and
well
;
this
the blessed
coffee."
So they did
for, when the little concert was over, men put pennies in the cap Tessa offered, and the fat man took her on his knee, and ordered ;
several
a
mug
left
of coffee, and some bread and butter for them
This quite
both.
won
her heart; and
when they
the cafe, she kissed her hand to the old French-
man, and said to her I like this very
But
Tommo "
much
;
friend,
"
How
and now
it is
kind they are not hard."
!
shook his curly head, and answered,
first, for they love but up among the great houses we shall not always do well. The people there are busy or hard or idle, and care nothing Do not skip and laugh too for harps and songs.
soberly,
Yes, I took you there
music, and are of our country
soon
;
for the
day
is
long,
;
and we have but twelve
pennies yet."
Tessa walked more quietly, and rubbed her cold hands, feeling that the world was a very big place,
TESSA'S SURPRISES.
43
and wondering how the children got on at home Till noon they did not"* little mother.
without the
earn much, for every one seemed in a hurry, and the
many sleigh-bells drowned the Slowly they made their way up to the great
noise
music.
of
squares
where the big houses were, with fine ladies and pretty children at the windows. Here Tessa sung all
her best songs, and
fingers could fly
;
but
Tommo it
played as
fast as his
was too cold to have the
windows open, so the pretty children could not and the ladies tossed out a little money,
listen long,
and soon went back to their own
affairs.
All the afternoon the two friends wandered about, singing and playing, and gathering up their small harvest.
At dusk they went home,
Tessa so hoarse
she could hardly speak, and so tired she
over her supper. for
Tommo
But she had made
divided the
rich with her share. like
this;
less,
but
The
money
fairly,
fell
asleep
half a dollar,
and she
other days were very
felt
much
sometimes they made more, sometimes " " always went halves ; and Tessa
Tommo
kept on, in spite of cold and weariness, for her plans
AUNT
44
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
as her earnings increased,
grew
and now she hoped
to get useful things, instead of candy and toys alone.
On
the day before Christmas she
made
herself as
tidy as she could, for she hoped to earn a good deal.
She tied a bright scarlet handkerchief over the old hood, and the brilliant color set off her brown cheeks
and bright
eyes, as well as the pretty black braids
of her hair.
Tommo's mother
lent her a pair of
boots so big that they turned up at the toes, but there were no holes in them, and Tessa
elegant in whole boots.
with
chilblains, for she
them under her
felt
quite
Her hands were covered
had no mittens
shawl, and
;
but she put
scuffled merrily
away
in
her big boots, feeling so glad that the week was over, and nearly three dollars safe in her pocket.
How gay the
streets
one was, and
how
were that day
!
how
brisk every
bright the faces looked, as people
trotted about with big baskets, holly-wreaths, and
young evergreens going Christmas trees
to blossom into
splendid
!
"If I could have a tree
for the children, I'd
never
TESSA'S SURPRISES. want any thing
again.
But
I can't
;
45 so I
fill
'11
the
full, and be happy," said Tessa, as she looked wistfully into the gay stores, and saw the
socks
all
heavy baskets go by. " Who knows what may happen returned
Tommo, nodding
if
we do
wisely, for he
well
?
"
had a plan
and kept chuckling over it as he trudged through the mud. They did not do well, somehow, for every one seemed so full of their own as well as Tessa,
" they could not stop to listen, even to Bella Monica," but bustled away to spend their money in affairs
turkeys, toys, to rain,
and
trees.
In the afternoon
and poor Tessa's heart to
fail
big boots tired her feet, the cold
hands ache, and the rain
as he walked, for
it
;
began
for the
wind made her
spoilt the fine red handker-
Even Tommo looked
chief.
her
sober,
and didn't whistle
he also was disappointed, and his
plan looked rather doubtful, the pennies came in so slowly. "
We
'11
thou art so face,
try one
more
street,
and give
and then go home,
let me wipe thy me thy hand here in my jacket pocket
tired, little one.
Come
;
;
AUNT
46
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
" and kind any kitten Tommo brushed away the drops which were not all rain from Tessa's cheeks, tucked the poor hand into
there
his
it
will
be as
warm
as
;
ragged pocket, and led *her carefully along the
slippery streets, for the boots nearly tripped her up.
II.
AT
the
first
house, a cross old gentleman flapped
newspaper at them; at the second, a young gentleman and lady were so busy talking, that they his
never turned their heads
;
and
at the third, a servant
came out and told them to go away, because some one was sick. At the fourth, some people let them sing
all
their songs,
three houses were
and gave nothing. The next and the last of all showed
empty
;
they looked up anxiously. It was so cold, so dark and discouraging, that Tessa couldn't
not a single
face, as
help one sob ; and, as he glanced
down
red nose and wet figure beside him,
at the little
Tommo
gave his harp an angry thump, and said something very fierce in Italian. They were just going to turn away ; but
TESSA'S SURPRISES. they
didn't, for that
47
angry thump happened to be the All of a sudden
best thing they could have done.
a little head appeared at the window, as if the sound had brought it ; then another and another, till there were five, of all heights and colors, and five eager faces
peeped
below. " Sing,
out, smiling
Tessa
sing
;
and nodding to the two Quick
!
Tommo, twanging away with showing
his white teeth, as
" !
all
quick
cried
!
his might,
and
he smiled back at the
little gentle-folk.
Bless us
!
How
Tessa did tune up at that
!
She
chirped away like a real bird, forgetting all about the tears on her cheeks, the ache in her hands, and the heaviness at her heart.
The
children laughed,
" clapped their hands, and cried More
another, little girl
!
Please,
do
"
!
more
!
And away
!
and Sing they
went again, piping and playing, till Tessa's breath was gone, and Tommo's stout fingers tingled well. "
to
Mamma says,
come
to the door ;
throw the money in the
child's voice, as
seeching eyes.
street
" !
it's
too
muddy
cried out a kindly
Tessa held up the old cap, with be-
AUNT
48
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
stone steps went the street musicians,
Up the wide
and the whole flock came running down to give a handful of silver, and ask all sorts of questions. Tessa
felt
Tommo, It
so
without waiting for
that,
grateful,
she sang her sweetest
was about a
lost lamb,
song; therefore, she sang pretty young lady
little
song
all
and her heart was it
alone. in the
well, so well, that a
came down
to listen,
and stood
watching the bright-eyed child, who looked about her as she sang, evidently enjoying the light and
warmth of the
fine hall,
and the sight of the lovely
children with their gay dresses, shining hair, and
dainty "
little shoes.
You have
a charming voice, child.
Who
taught
" you to sing ? asked the young lady, kindly. mother. She is dead now; but I do not "My forget,"
answered Tessa, in her pretty broken Eng-
lish.
" I wish she could sing at our tree, since Bella ill,"
is
cried one of the children, peeping through the
banisters.
"She
is
not
fair
enough
for the angel,
and too
TESSA'S SURPRISES.
49
go up in the tree. But she sings sweetly, and looks as if she would like to see a tree," said the large to
young
lady.
"
Oh, so much!" exclaimed Tessa; adding eagerly, "my sister Ranza is small and pretty as a babyangel.
She could
sit
up in the
and I could
fine tree,
sing for her from under the table." " Sit down and warm yourself, and tell
Ranza," said the kind elder confiding
little girl, in spite
So Tessa
sat
down and
sister,
who
of her shabby clothes.
the furnace, and told her story, while
"
O
Rose
!
Let us see the
song,
boy,
and
who
it
have
will
her,
about
dried the big boots over
modestly in the background, and listened with faces full of interest.
will do, let us
me
liked the
Tommo the
little girl
;
stood
children
and
if
she
and Tessa can learn our
be splendid!" cried the biggest
sat astride of a chair,
harp with round eyes. " ni ask mamma," said Rose into the dining-room close by.
;
and stared
and away she went
As
the door opened,
Tessa saw what looked to her like a fairy 4
at the
feast,
AUNT
50 all silver
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
mugs and flowery
nuts and rosy wine in
plates
and oranges and and smok-
tall glass pitchers,
ing dishes that smelt so deliciously she could not restrain a little sniff of satisfaction.
"Are you hungry?" asked
the boy, in a grand
tone.
"
Yes,
"I
Can
sir,"
say,
meekly answered Tessa. she wants something to
mamma;
eat.
I give her an orange ? " called the boy, pranc-
ing away into the splendid room, quite like a fairy prince, Tessa thought.
A plump, motherly lady came
out and looked at
Tessa, asked a few questions, and then told her to
come to-morrow with Ranza, and they would what could be done. she didn't
joy,
Tommo
mind the
chilblains
be paid, and
shall
tree, likewise," said the
what Tessa u
and
now,
played a lively march, he was so pleased.
" Will you come, too, and bring your harp shall
see
Tessa clapped her hands for
You
?
have something from the motherly lady,
who
liked
gratefully told about his kindness to her.
Ah, yes ; I shall come with
much
gladness,
and
.
TESSA'S SURPRISES.
51
play as never in my life before," cried Tommo, with a flourish of the old cap that made the children laugh.
"Give these
to
your brothers," said the
fairy
prince, stuffing nuts and oranges into Tessa's hands.
"
And
young
these to the
little girl,"
added one of the
princesses, flying out of tKe dining-room
with
cakes and rosy apples for Ranza.
know what
Tessa didn't
to say;
but her eyes
full, and she just took the mother's white hand both her little grimy ones, and kissed it many
were ,
in
times in her pretty Italian fashion.
The lady under-
stood her, and stroked her cheek
"softly,
her elder daughter, "
good tens
;
We
saying to
must take care of
this
Freddy, bring me your mit-' these poor hands must be covered. Alice, get little
creature.
your play-hood
;
this
Maud, bring the old
The
handkerchief
is
all
wet
;
and,
chinchilla tippet."
children ran, and in a minute there were
lovely blue mittens on the red hands, a
warm hood
" over the black braids, and a soft " pussy round the
sore throat.
AUNT
52
"Ah! say
'
JO'S SCRAP-BAG. I have no
so kind, so very kind!
thank you
'
;
but Ranza shall be
heavenly angel, and I will sing
my
way
for
to
you a
heart out for
" cried Tessa, folding the mittens as your tree !
she would say a prayer of thankfulness if she
if
knew
how.
Then they went away, and called after them, "
Tommo!" Now
Come
the pretty children
again, Tessa
!
come
again,
the rain didn't seem dismal, the
wind
cold, nor the way long, as they bought their and hurried home, for kind words and the sweet magic of charity had changed all the world gifts
to them.
I think the good spirits
mas Eve,
who
to help the loving
fly
fillers
about on Christ-
of
little
stockings,
smiled very kindly on Tessa as she brooded joyfully over the small store of presents that seemed so magnificent to her.
All the goodies were divided evenly
into three parts
and stowed away
in father's three
which hung against the curtain. With her three dollars, she had got a pair of shoes for
big socks,
Nono, a knit cap
for Sep,
and
r-
pair of white stock-
TESSA'S SURPRISES. ings for to
Ranza ;
Nono "
53
to her she also gave the
the mittens
;
and to Sep the
new hood
;
tippet.
Now
the dear boys can go out, and my Ranza be ready for the lady to see, in her nice new things," said Tessa, quite sighing with pleasure to will
see
how
well the gifts looked pinned up beside the
bulging socks, which wouldn't hold them little
mother kept nothing
for herself
ure of giving every thing
was both
them
all.
since the
away
;
all.
The
but the pleas-
yet, I think, she
and happier than if she had kept Her father laughed as he had not done
richer
mother died, when he saw how comically
the old curtain had broken out into boots and hoods, stockings and tippets. " I wish I had a
gold
gown and
a silver hat for
Tessa, thou art so good. May the saints " bless and keep thee always ! said Peter Benari thee,
my
tenderly, as he held his little daughter close,
and
gave her the good-night kiss. Tessa felt very rich as she crept under the faded counterpane, feeling as if she had received a lovely gift,
and
fell
happily asleep with chubby Ranza in
AUNT
54
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
her arms, and the two rough black heads peeping
She dreamed wonderful
out at the foot of the bed.
dreams that night, and woke in the morning to find real wonders before her eyes. She got up early, to see if the socks were all right, and there she found the most astonishing sight. three
was a
;
and by the little dress,
fourth,
Four
socks, instead of
pinned out quite elegantly,
evidently meant for her,
a warm, with and made, bright actually
woollen dress,
all
buttons on
It nearly took her breath
did the
it.
new
boots on the
floor,
away
;
stocking like a gray sausage, with a
wooden
doll
" staring out at the top, as if she said, politely,
Merry Christmas, ma'am!" danced in her
delight,
so
and the funny long
A
Tessa screamed and
and up tumbled
all
the chil-
dren to scream and dance with her, making a regular carnival on a small scale.
Everybody hugged and
kissed everybody else, offered sucks of orange, bites
of cake, and exchanges of candy ; every one tried on the new things, and pranced about in them like a flock of peacocks. Ranza skipped to and fro airily, dressed in her white socks and the red hood ; the
TESSA'S SURPRISES.
55
boys promenaded in their little shirts, one with his creaking new shoes and mittens, the other in his fine tippet ; and Tessa put her dress " " gold gown straight on, feeling that her father's
gay cap and
was not
all
all sorts
of treasures ; for
a joke.
In her long stocking she found
Tommo
had
stuffed
made
of queer things, and his mother had
bread into every imaginable shape, from full omnibuses.
Dear me
!
What happy
that morning ; and
little
Ranza was
ginger-
fat pigs to
souls they
when they were quiet
like a fairy tale did Tessa's story
it full
again,,
were
how
sound to them.
quite ready to be an angel
;
and the boys
promised to be marvellously good, if they were only allowed to see the tree at the "palace," as they called the great house. Little Ranza was accepted with delight by the kind lady and her children, and Tessa learned the song quite easily. The boys were asked ; and, after
a happy day, the young Italians
all
returned, to play
their parts at the fine Christmas party.
and Miss Rose
drilled
them
all
;
and,
when
Mamma the fold-
AUNT
56
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
"Oh!"
ing-doors flew open, one rapturous
from the crowd of children gathered to the I assure you,
it
was splendid
ing with lights and gifts
;
;
all
the great tree glitter-
and, on her invisible perch,
up among the green boughs, haired angel,
arose
festival.
sat the little golden-
in white, with
wings, a
downy
shining crown on her head, and the most serene satisfaction in her blue eyes, as she stretched her
chubby arms to those below, and smiled her baby smile at them. as fresh
Before any one could speak, a Toice,
and sweet
as a lark's, sang the Christmas
Carol so blithely, that every one stood
and then clapped till the " perch, and cried out, Be
little 'till,
still
to hear,
angel shook on her
or me'll
fall
" !
How
they laughed at that ; and what fun they had talking to Ranza, while Miss Rose stripped the treeJHTor the angel could not resist temptation, and amused her-
by eating all the bonbons she could reach, till she was taken down, to dance about like a fairy in a self
white frock and red shoes.
Tessa and her friends
had many presents; the boys were
Tommo
played for the
little
perfect lambs,
folks to dance,
and
TESSA'S SURPRISES.
57
every one said something friendly to the strangers, so that they did not feel shy, in spite of shabby It
clothes.
was a happy night; and
they remembered
it
bright to be quite true.
mamma
the kind
all their lives
as something too beautiful
and
Before they went home,
told Tessa she should be her
and gave her a motherly kiss, which warmed the child's heart and seemed to set a seal upon that promise. It was faithfully kept, for the rich lady friend,
had been touched by Tessa's patient struggles and sacrifices and for many years, thanks to her benev;
olence, there
was no end
to Tessa's Surprises.
AUNT
58
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
BUZZ.
T LIVE *
high up in a city house -all alone. My a cosy little place, though' there is
room
is
nothing very splendid in
and books,
my
flowers
and
it,
my
only
my
little friend.
pictures
When
was very busy and therefore very happy; but by and by, when my hurry was over and I had more time to myself, I often I began to live there, I
When
felt lonely.
for a pleasant
I sat
by the
social
many
it
companion
fire
and
if
some one
callers
I used to wish
my meals
me and when how much more
to eat with
evenings, I thought
would be
friends
I ate
;
sat opposite.
I
had
through the day, but the
evenings were often rather dull ; for I couldn't read in the stormy
much, and didn't care to go out weather. I
was wishing
when
all
for
a cheerful friend one night, ; for, sitting on
of a sudden I found one
BUZZ,
my hand,
I
saw a plump, jolly-looking
quietly staring at to say, "
59
me, with a mild
How
are you ? You wanted a " Will you have me ?
I am.
Of course
I would, for I liked
him
He
fly.
little
hum,
sat
as if
and here
friend,
directly,
he was
and confiding, and seemed as glad to see I was to see him. All his mates were dead
so cheery
me
as
and gone, and he was
alone, like myself.
So I wag-
gled one finger, by way of welcome, fearing to shake my hand, lest he should tumble off and feel hurt at
my
He seemed
reception.
to understand me, and
buzzed again, evidently saying, " Thank you, ma'am. I should
warm
room, and amuse you for
disturb you, but do
my
like to stay in
my board.
your
I won't
best to be a good
little
friend."
So the bargain was
struck,
and he stopped to
tea.
I found that his manners had been neglected ; for he
was
inclined to
walk over the
butter, drink out of
the cream-pot, and put his fingers in the
few taps with
my
jelly.
A
spoon taught him to behave with
AUNT
60
more
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
and he sipped a drop of milk from
propriety,
the waiter with a crumb of sugar, as a well-bred
fly
should do.
On
account of his fine voice, I named him Buzz,
and we soon got on excellently together. He seemed to like his new quarters, and, after exploring every corner of the room, he chose his favorite
haunts and began to enjoy himself. I always knew where he was, for he kept up a constant song, hum-
ming and
buzzing, like a
little
kettle getting ready
to boil.
On sunny
days, he
amused himself by bumping
head against the window, and watching what went on outside. It would have given me a headhis
ache, but he in
seemed to enjoy
my hanging
and
sat there
it
basket of ivy he
immensely.
made
on the moss basking
Up
his bower,
in the sunshine,
any gentleman in his ^conservatory. was interested in the plants, and examined them
as luxuriously as
He
daily with great care, walking over the ivy leaves,
grubbing under the moss, and poking his head into the unfolding hyacinth buds to see how they got on.
BUZZ.
The for
pictures, also,
61
seemed to
attract his attention,
he spent much time skating over the glasses and
studying the designs. staring at
my
Sometimes I would find him
Madonna,
as if
he
said,
" What in the
world are
all
those topsy-turvy children about
Then
sit
in the
he'd
?
"
middle of a brook, in a water-
color sketch by Vautin, as if bathing his feet, or seem to be eating the cherry which one little duck politely offers another little duck, in Oscar Pletch's
Summer portrait,
Party.
and
sat
ing to get out like
honey
in
He on
frequently kissed
my father's
why
mother's if try-
some of the wisdom stored up an ill-thatched bee-hive.
Mercury rather puzzled him, stand
my
bald head, as
for
My
there,
bronze
he could not under-
the young gentleman didn't fly off
when
he had four wings and seemed in such a hurry. I'm afraid he was a trifle vain, for he sat before the glass a great deal, and I often saw his proboscis, he was "
and twiddling
prinking," as
we
say.
him, too, and he used to run to choose which he
would
his feelers,
The books pleased
them
read,
him cleaning and I know
over, as if trying
and never seemed
AUNT
62
able to decide.
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
He would
have nothing to say to my English Plays, but
the fat French Dictionary, or
Emerson and Browning, Carlyle didn't suit him, and
liked Goethe and Schiller, as well
as I
did.
Richter evidently Ingelow's
Poems
made
his
head ache.
But Jean
delighted him, and so did her
"Stories Told to a Child."
"
Fairy Bells" he often
and was very fond of the pictures in a photograph book of foreign places and great people. He frequently promenaded on the piazza of a
listened to,
little
Swiss chalet, standing on the mantel-piece, it a charming residence for a single
and thought gentleman
like himself.
The
closet delighted
him
extremely, and he buzzed in the most joyful manner
when he got among
the provisions,
for
we
kept
house together. Such revels as he had in the sugarbowl ; such feasts of gingerbread and grapes ; such long sips of milk, and sly peeps into every uncovered Once I'm afraid he took too much
box and dish
!
found him lying on his back, kicking and like a crazy top, and he was very queer all humming the rest of that day ; so I kept the bottle corked cider, for I
But
after that.
BUZZ.
63
his favorite
nook was among the
which a Parian dancing-girl carried. She stood just over the stove on one little toe, rattling some castanets, which made- no sound, and ferns in the vase
never getting a step farther for all her prancing. This was a warm and pretty retreat for Buzz, and
much
there he spent
of his time, swinging on the
snugly in the vase, or warming his blew up, like a south wind,
ferns, sleeping
feet in the hot air that
from the stove. I don't believe there was a happier
than
my friend
fly in
Boston
Buzz, and I grew fonder and fonder
him every day
he never got into mischief, cheery song, no matter what the sung Then weather was, and made himself agreeable. of
but
;
for
his
he was so interested in to have
him round.
walked about over peeped into
He
never
stories,
so I
am
my
made
all
was
delightful
I wrote he
came and
I did,
When
my paper to
it
see that
ink-stand, and ran silly
or sharp
it
was
after
criticisms
right,
my
pen.
on my*
but appeared to admire them very much ; sure he was a good judge. When I sewed,
AUNT
64
JO'S SCRAP-RAG.
he sat4n folds of
most
my basket, or played hide-and-seek my work, talking away all the while He
sociable manner.
me
mood he
come and play with him.
to
air,
couldn't keep
no wings, and could only That was at his pranks.
sit
in
and wanted
But, alas
stupidly
was
as if he
still,
still,
his exercise, for
went- out, and only took a sniff of air
when
in the
often flew up all of a
sudden, and danced about in the
such a jolly
in the
!
I
had
and laugh he never
now and
then
I opened the windows.
Well,
little
Buzz and I lived together many weeks, tired of one another, which is saying
and never got
a good deal. At Christmas I went home for a week and left my room to take care of itself. I put the
hyacinths into the closet to be warm, and dropped the curtain, so the frost should not nip I forgot Buzz.
I really
my ivy
;
but
would have taken him with
me, or carried him down to a neighbor's room to be taken care of while I was away, but I never thought of
him
in the hurry of getting
my presents
and my-
Off I went without even saying " goodand never by," thought of my little friend till self ready.
BUZZ. Freddy,
my
65
small nephew, said to
me
one evening
at dusk,
" Aunt
me
Jo, tell
a story."
So I began to tell him about Buzz, and sudden I cried out, "
Mercy on me
!
I'm afraid
he'll die
all
of a
of cold while
I'm gone." It troubled
how
the poor
me
a good deal, and I wanted to know
little
fellow
was so much that
I
would
have gone to see if I had not been so far away. But it would be rather silly to hurry away twenty miles to look after one fly
and then went back to and well
alive
Alas, no! lay on
:
so I finished
my room, hoping
my visit,
to find
Buzz
in spite of the cold.
my
little
friend
was gone.
There he
back on the mantel-piece, his legs meekly He had evifolded, and his wings stiff and still. his
dently gone to the
when
place, left
and been surprised
him
to freeze.
My
Buzz had sung his last song, danced his dance, and gone where the good flies go. I was
poor last
warm
the heat died out and
little
very sorry, and buried him among the ivy roots, 5
AUNT
66
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
where the moss lay green above him, the sun shone
warmly on him, and the bitter cold could never come. I miss him very much when I sit writing, ;
I miss his cheerful voice
and busy wings
;
at meals
no tidy little body to drink up spilt drops and eat the crumbs in the evenings, when I sit
there
is
;
alone, I
want him more than
I water
my plants,
"
Grow
green, ivy,
sun, and make friend."
ever,
and every day
as
I say, softly, lie lightly,
his last
moss, shine warmly,
bed pleasant to
my
little
THE CHILDREN'S JOKE.
67
THE CHILDREN'S JOKE. OU'
can>t
'
do tms and
'
7 OU mustn't do
that,'
from morning to night. Try it yourself and see how you'd like it," muttered Harry, as he flung down his hat in sulky obedience to his father's com-
mand
to give
self cool
"
Of
Good
up a swim
with a book that
in the river
and keep him-
warm summer
course I should like to
mind
evening.
my
children always do," began Mr.
parents.
Fairbairn,
entirely forgetting the pranks of his boyhood, as
people are apt
to.
"
Glad I didn't know you then. Must have been a regular prig," growled Harry under his breath. "
see
Silence, sir
you
till
!
go to your room, and don't let me You must be taught respect
tea-time.
as well as obedience,"
and Mr. Fairbairn gave the
table a rap that caused his son to retire precipitately.
AUNT
68
On
the stairs he
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
met
his sister Kitty looking as
cross as himself.
"What's the matter with you?" he asked, pausing a minute, for misery loves company. " Mamma will frock,
make me
and have
my
because some one garden, and I
dress
up
in a stiff clean
hair curled over again, just
may
come.
I
can't all fussed
want
up
to play in the
this
way.
I
do
hate company and clothes and manners, don't you?" answered Kitty, with a spiteful pull at her sash. " I hate being ordered round everlastingly, and
badgered from morning till night. I'd % just like to be let alone," and Harry went on his way to captivity with a grim shake of the head and a very strong desire to run away from home altogether. " So would
I,
mamma
is
so fussy.
any peace of my life," sighed Kitty, lot was a hard one.
The martyr martyr they
brown
linen
went up, and the other
went down, both looking as and unhappy, y Yet a stranger
in white cambric
felt,
seeing
in
I never have
feeling that her
rebellious
them and
their
home would
hav.e
thought
THE CHILDREN'S JOKE.
69
they had every thing heart could desire. All the comforts that money could buy, and all the beauty that taste could give seemed gathered round them.
Papa and mamma loved the two little people dearly, and no real care or sorrow came to trouble the lives that would have been
With
all
sunshine but for one thing.
the best intentions in the world, Mr. and Mrs.
Fairbairn.were spoiling their children by constant fault-finding, too
many rules, and
too
little
sympathy
with the active young souls and bodies under their care./ As Harry said, they were ordered about, corrected and fussed over from morning
were getting so tired of
it
till
night,
and
that the most desperate
ideas began to enter their heads.
Now, in the house was a quiet old maiden aunt, who saw the mischief brewing and tried to cure it by suggesting more the boys call silenced her
"
My
by
liberty
and
less "
nagging," as
But Mr. and Mrs. F. always
it.
saying,
dear Betsey, you never had a family, so
can you
ment of
know any children ?
"
how
thing about the proper manage-
AUNT
70
They
.
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
quite forgot that sister Betsey
had brought sisters, and
up a flock of motherless brothers and
done it wisely and well, though she never got any thanks or praise for it, and never expected any for doing her duty
If
faithfully.
it
had not been
for
aunty, Harry and Kitty would have long ago carried
out their favorite plan and have run like
foolish
was
prank by
all sorts
was
together, this
of unsuspected means, and
their refuge in troublous times.
quiet ways, aunty
away
She kept them from
Roland and Maybird.
full
For
all
her
of fun as well as sympa-
thy and patience, and she smoothed the thorny road to virtue with the innocent and kindly little arts that
make some people
as useful
and beloved
as
godmothers were once upon a time. As they sat at tea that evening papa and mamma were most affable and lively; but the children's
good
spirits
fairy
were depressed by a long day of restraint, and
they sat like well-bred mutes, languidly eating their supper. "It's the
bracing.
warm
I'll
give
morrow," said
weather. They need something them a dose of iron mixture to-
mamma.
THE CHILDREN'S JOKE. <c
71
Fve taken enough now
groaned Kitty, " If
to make a cooking-stove," who hated being dosed.
me go swimming every night I'd be added Harry. " Not another word on that point. I will not let you'd let
all right,"
you do
for
it,
you
will get
drowned
mamma, who was
try," said
as sure as
the minute her boy was out of sight. " Aunt let her and
boys go,
Betsey
came to
began Harry. " Aunt Betsey's ideas and mine
they never
grief,"
are not brought up
answered
"I
you had panics
so timid she
now
mamma with
as they
a superior
just wish they were.
differ.
Children
were in her day," air.
Jolly good times her
boys had." "
Yes, and girls too, playing any thing they liked, and not rigged up and plagued with company," cried Kitty, with sudden interest.
"What naturedly
do you mean by that?" asked papa, good;
for
somehow
his
youth returned to him
for a minute, and seemed very pleasant.
The Harry
children could not explain very well, but said slowly,
AUNT
72
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
" If
see
you were to be what we mean."
in our places for a
day you'd
" Wouldn't it be worth your while to try the ex" said Aunt Betsey, with a smile. periment ?
Papa and mamma laughed when aunty added,
at the idea, but looked
sober "
Why not put yourselves in their places for a
and see how you
like it ?
day you would under-
I think
stand the case better than any one could describe
it,
and perhaps do both yourselves and the children a lasting service." "
Upon my
you say to
word, that's a droll idea
it,
mamma?"
!
What
do
and papa looked much
amused. "I
am
willing to try
it if
you
of the thing, but I don't think
and
mamma
are, just for
it
will
shook her head as
if
the fun
do any good
Aunt
" ;
Betsey's
plan was a wild one.
The
children sat quite speechless with
at this singular proposal, but as
dawned upon them, they skipped clapped their
hands delightedly.
its
full
surprise
richness
in their chairs
and
THE CHILDREN'S JOKE. "
How
do you propose to carry out
73
new
this
cational frolic?" asked papa, beginning to feel curiosity as to the part
edu-
some
he was to play.
"
Merely let the children do as they like for one day and have full power over you. Let them plan your duties and pleasures, order your food, fix your hours, and punish or reward you as they think proper.
You must
keep the agreement " Good
promise entire obedience, and till
night."
be fun " cried Harry and Kitty, applauding enthusiastically while papa and mamma looked rather sober as the plan was !
good
Qh, won't
!
it
!
;
developed before them. "
To-morrow
is
a holiday for us
all,
and we might
funny experiment. It will amuse us and do no harm, at any rate," added aunty, quite celebrate
it
by
this
new scheme. we will. Come, mamma,
in love with her
"
let us promwell, and see what these rogues will do for us. Playing father and mother is no joke, min<J you but you will have an easier time of it than we do, for we
Very
ise,
;
shall
behave ourselves," said papa, with a virtuous
expression.
AUNT
74
Mamma
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
agreed, and the supper ended merrily, for
every one was the new play.
full
of curiosity as to the success of
Harry and Kitty went to bed
early,
that they might be ready for the exciting labors of
Aunt Betsey paid each
the next day.
before they slept, and
it
is
a short visit
supposed that she laid
out the order of performances, and told each what for the little people would never have thought ;
to do
of so
many
At
sly things if left to themselves.
seven, the next morning, as
mamma
was
in
her dressing-room, just putting on her cool, easy wrapper, in came Kitty with a solemn face, though her eyes danced with fun, as she said, "
Careless, untidy girl
Put on a clean
!
up your hair properly, and go and hour before breakfast."
At
first
mamma looked
Kitty was firm
;
dress,
do
practise half an
as if inclined to refuse, but
and, with a
sigh,
mamma rustled
into
scratchy, French print, took her hair out of the comfortable net, and braided it carefully up ; then,
a
stiff",
instead of reading in her arm-chair, she
the parlor and music.
set
was led to
to learning a hard piece of
THE CHILDREN'S JOKE. " Can't I have
my
can't allow
is
my roll ?
"
a very bad habit, and I
said Kitty, in the tone her
it,"
used to her.
and
early cup of tea
she asked. " Eating between meals
75
" I shall have a
mug
of
mother often
new milk and
a roll, because grown people need more nourishment than children;" and sitting down, she ate her early lunch with a relish, while poor mamma played away, feeling quite out of tune herself.
Harry found papa enjoying the
last
delightful
dose that makes bed so fascinating of a morning. As if half afraid to try the experiment, the boy slowly approached and gave the sleeper a sudden, hard shake, saying briskly, " Come, come, come, lazy-bones Get up, get up as if an started had roused him, Papa earthquake and stared at Harry, astonished for a minute, then "
!
!
he remembered, and upset Harry's gravity by whining out, "
Come, you
I
am
let
me
alone.
It isn't
time yet, and
so tired."
Harry took the joke, and assuming the
stern air
of his father on such occasions, said impressively,
AUNT
76 "
You have been
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
and now if you are not you won't have any break-
called,
down
in fifteen minutes
fast.
Not a
morsel,
sir,
not a morsel ; " and, coolly
pocketing his father's watch, he retired, to giggle all the
downstairs.
way
When
the breakfast bell rang,
mamma
longing for her
into the dining-room,
hurried
But
tea.
Kitty sat behind the urn, and said gravely,
"Go
back, and enter the
room
properly.
Will
you never learn to behave like a lady?" Mamma looked impatient at the delay, and having re-entered in her most elegant manner, sat down,
and passed her plate
"No
fish
and muffins.
for fresh trout
or hot bread for you,
my
your good oatmeal porridge and milk proper food for children." " Can't I have spair, for
"
without
Certainly not.
little girl,
some tea ? " it
she
felt
cried
;
Eat
dear.
that
mamma,
is
the
in de-
quite lost.
I never was
allowed tea
and couldn't think of giving
it
when a
to you,"
said Kitty, filling a large cup for herself, and sipping the forbidden draught with a relish.
THE CHILDREN'S JOKE.
77
Poor mamma quite groaned at this hard fate, but meekly obeyed, and ate the detested porridge, understanding Kitty's dislike to
it
at last.
Harry, sitting in his father's chair, read the paper,
and ate every thing he could lay
his
hands on, with
a funny assumption of his father's morning manner.
Aunt Betsey looked on much amused, and now and then nodded to the children as
were going
Breakfast was half over
was about
if
she thought things
nicely.
to
when papa came in, and when his son
take Harry's place,
said, trying vainly to
look grave as he showed the
watch, " sir.
What did I tell you, sir ? You are No breakfast, sir. I'm sorry, but
late again, this habit
must be broken up. Not a word; it's your own fault, and you must bear the penalty." "
Come, now,
hungry.
that's
hard on a fellow
!
I'm awful
Can't I have just a bite of something?"
asked papa, quite taken aback at this stern decree. " I said not a morsel, and I shall keep my word. Go to your morning duties, and let this be a lesson to you."
AUNT
78
Papa
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
cast a look at
Aunt
Betsey, that was both
comic and pathetic, and departed without a word ; but he felt a sudden sympathy with his son, who
had often been sent
fasting
from the table
for
some
small offence.
Now heart,
it
and
utes she
was that he appreciated aunty's kind felt
quite fond of her, for in a few min-
came
to him, as he raked the gravel walk
.
(Harry's duty every day), and slipping a nice, warm,
muffin into his hand, said, in her
well-buttered
motherly way, "
My dear,
do try and please your
father.
.
He
right about late rising, but I can't bear to see
is
you
starve."
"
Betsey, you are an angel
" !
and turning
his
back
papa bolted the muffin with grateful inquiring, with a laugh, "Do you think
to the house, rapidity,
those rogues will keep
it
up
in this vigorous style
all
day?" "I trust
like it,"
so; it isn't a bit overdone. Hope you and Aunt Betsey walked away, looking
as if she enjoyed it extremely.
THE CHILDREN'S JOKE.
"Now down
79
put on your hat and draw baby up and Don't go on the
the avenue for half an hour.
grass or
you
will
wet your
feet
;
baby, I want her to go to sleep
papa or he will neglect they rose from table.
Now it
and don't play with and don't talk to ;
his work," said Kitty, as
was a warm morning and baby was heavy dull, and mamma much pre-
and the avenue was
ferred to stay in the house
on to a new and pretty
"Must
mamma
I really?
to
and sew the trimming
dress.
Kitty you are a hard-hearted it," and Mrs. Fairbairn
make me do
hoped her play-parent would relent. But she did not, and only answered with a meaning "
loo"k,
I have
off."
to
do
it
every day and you don't
let
me
.
Mamma said no more, but put on her hat and trundled away with fretful baby, thinking to find her fellow-sufferer and have a laugh over the joke.
She was disappointed, however, for Harry called papa away to weed the lettuce-bed, and then shut
AUNT
80
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
him up in the study mounted the pony and a
new
fishing-rod
When mamma by Kitty with a
to get his lessons, while he trotted
away
to
town to buy
and otherwise enjoy himself. came in, hot and tired, she was met
hand and a spoon
bottle in one
in
the other. "
Here
like a
"I
good won't
" Then
your iron mixture, dear.
is
Now
" !
and
mamma looked
it
quite stubborn.
aunty will hold your hands and
make you." "But I
take
girL"
don't
like
it;
I
don't need
I* shall
it,"
cried
mamma. " Neither do
I,
but you give
it
to
me
all
the same.
I'm sure you need strengthening more than I do, " c you have so many trials,' and Kitty looked very of the words often on her sly as she quoted one mother's "
lips.
You'd better mind, Carrie
and you know you promised
;
it
can't hurt you,
entire obedience.
a good example," said aunty. " But I never thought these
little chits
Set
would do
THE CHILDREN'S JOKE. so
Ugh, how disagreeable
well.
it
81 is
" !
And
mamma
took her dose with a wry face, feeling that Aunt Betsey was siding with the wrong party. "
Now
time.
way
I
sit
down and hem
these towels
till
dinner-
have so much to do I don't know which
to turn," continued Kitty,
much
elated with her
success.
Rest of any sort was welcome, so mamma sewed till callers came. They happened to be some
busily little
friends of Kitty's,
parlor, telling
mamma
and she went to them in the to
go up to nurse and have
her hair brushed and her dress changed, and then
come and
see the guests.
While she was away
joke they were having, and begged them to help her carry it out. They agreed, being ready for fun and not at all afraid of Mrs.
Kitty told the
girls the
So when she came in they all began to and cuddle and praise and pass her round as if she was a doll, to her great discomfort and the great
Fairbairn. kiss
amusement of the
While Harry
this
little girls.
was going on
in the drawing-room,
was^tutoring his father in the study,
and put-
*
AUNT
82
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
ting that poor gentleman through a course of questions that nearly drove
him
distracted
;
for
Harry
got out the hardest books he could find, and selected the most puzzling subjects.
A
dusty old history
was rummaged out also, and classical researches followed in which papa's memory played him false
more than young
once, calling forth rebukes from his severe
tutor.
But he came
his mathematics, for he
to open disgrace over had no head for figures, and
not being a business man, had not troubled himself about the matter, so Harry, who was in fine practice, utterly routed him in mental arithmetic by giving him regular puzzlers, and when he got stuck offered no help, but shook his head and called him a stupid fellow.
The
dinner-bell released the exhausted student,
and he gladly took his had been hard at work. but was helped checked every
Mamma was the pie
bad
when
last,
five
son's place, looking as if
He was
he
with hunger, " a being only boy," and then minutes for eating too fast. faint
very meek, and only looked wistfully at told in her own words that pastry was
for children.
THE CHILDREN'S Any
at
attempts
JOKE.
83
conversation were
promptly
" Children quenched by the worn-out old saying,
should be seen, not heard," while Harry and Kitty chattered heart's
all
the
especially
their great children,
imitated
and enjoyed
dinner-time,
content,
to their
it
frequent pecks at
who, to be even with them,
all their tricks as
well as they could. " "
" Don't whistle at table, papa mamma " " wait till
keep your hands
;
"
you are helped, sir "tuck your napkin well in, and don't spill your still,
;
;
soup, Caroline."
Aunt Betsey laughed they had a
jolly time,
the best of
it,
her eyes were
though the
for the others
their dislike to the
"
till
new
,
full,
and
people had
little
obeyed them
in spite of
rules.
Now you may play for
two
hours,"
was the gra-
cious order issued as they rose from table.
Mamma fell
upon a
sofa exhausted, an-d
papa hur-
ried to read his paper in the shady garden.
Usually these hours of apparent freedom were not to run, not to play this by constant calls,
spoilt
or that, or frequent calls to do errands.
The
chil-
AUNT
84
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
dren had mercy, however, and
left
them
which was a wise move on the whole,
in peace
for the
;
poor
souls found rest so agreeable they privately resolved
to let the children alone in their play-hours. " " Can I go over and see Mr. Hammond ? asked
papa, wishing to use up the last half-hour of his
time by a neighborly " No
;
I don't like
call.
Tommy Hammond,
so I don't
wish you to play with his father," said Harry, with a sly twinkle of the eye, as he turned the tables on his papa.
Mr. Fairbairn gave a low whistle and retired to the barn, where Harry followed him, and ordered
man to harness up old Bill. " Going to drive, sir ? asked papa, respectfully. "Don't ask questions," was all the answer he
the
"
got.
Old
Bill
was put into the best buggy and driven Papa followed, and mamma sprang
to the hall door.
up from her nap, ready
for
her afternoon drive.
" " Can't I go ? she asked, as Kitty
her
new
hat and gloves.
came down
in
THE CHILDREN'S JOKE.
,
85
"
No
"
Why not
have the
like it so
much," said papa, in the pleading tone
we
there isn't room."
;
and
carryall,
let
us go, too,
Harry often used. Kitty was about to consent, for she loved mamma, and found it hard to cross her so. But Harry was
made
of sterner stuff; his wrongs
still
burned within
him, and he said impatiently, "
We
nicest
can't
and
be troubled with you. The buggy is and we want to talk over our
lightest,
You, my son, can help John turn the hay on the lawn, and Caroline can amuse baby, or help Jane with the preserves. Little girls should be affairs.
domestic." "
" Oh, thunder growled papa. !
" Aunt
Betsey taught you that speech, you saucy cried mamma, as the children drove off in high boy," glee, leaving their parents to the distasteful tasks set
them. Mrs. Fairbairn wanted to read, but baby was ful,
and there was no Kitty to turn him over
fret-
to,
so
she spent her afternoon amusing the small tyrant,
while papa
made hay
in the sun
and didn't
like
it.
AUNT
86
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
Just at tea-time the children came home,
full
of
the charms of their drive, but did not take the trouble to tell
much about
people.
victims, while they revelled in fruit
"I
and
to the stay-at-home
it
Bread and milk was
all
they allowed their
marmalade and cake,
tea.
expect company this evening, but I don't wish
you to sit up, Caroline ; you are too young, and late hours are bad for your eyes. Go to bed, and don't forget to brush your hair and teeth well, five minutes for each
;
cold cream your hands, fold your rib-
hang up your clothes, put out your boots to be cleaned, and put in the mosquito bars I will come
bons,
;
and take away the
light
when
Kitty delivered this dread
I
am
command with
for she
had heard and cried over
have
quite
"
it
But I
by
dressed."
it
effect,
too often not to
heart.
go to bed at half-past seven o'clock of a summer night I 'm not sleepy, and this is just can't
!
the pleasantest time of the whole day," said
mamma,
thinking her bargain a hard one. " Go up directly, my daughter, and don't discuss
THE CHILDREN'S JOKE. the matter sent lie
;
I
know what
thinking soberly
lamp. " Have
is
best for you,"
mamma
wide-awake
social,
till
87
and Kitty
to bed, there to
Mrs. Kit came for
the
you had a happy day, love ? "she asked,
bending over the pillow, as her mother used to do. u ma'am."
No,
"
Then
it
was your own fault, all things, and you
your parents in and happy." "
That depends "
short,
my
child.
Obey
will be both
good
began mamma, but stopped would be on
remembering that to-morrow she
the other side, and any thing she might say
now
would be quoted against her. But Kitty understood, and her heart melted as she hugged her mother and said in her
own
caress-
ing way, " Poor Uttle
and
mamma
!
did she have a hard time ?
didn't she like being a "
her parents
good
girl
and minding
?
Mamma laughed also, she said was,
and held Kitty close, but
all
AUNT
88 " all
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
Good-night, dear
don't be troubled
;
:
it
will
be
right to-morrow."
"I hope
so,"
and with a hearty
kiss,
thoughtfully downstairs to meet several
whom As
Kitty went
little
Mends
she had asked to spend the evening with her.
the ladies
prepared to
the room, papa leaned back and
left
smoke a
the comfort of
it
cigar, feeling that
after this trying day.
was down upon him at "A very bad habit,
he needed
But Harry
once. can't allow
it.
Throw
that
and go and get your Latin lesson The study is quiet, and we want this
dirty thing away, for to-morrow.
room."
"But
me
I
am
tired.
I can't study at night.
Let
to-morrow, please, sir!" begged papa had not looked at Latin since he left school.
off
who " Not
till
a word,
sir
!
I shall listen to
no excuses, and
you neglect your education on any acand count," Harry slapped the table a la papa in the most impressive manner. shall not let
Mr. Fairbairn went away into the dull study and believe do his lesson, but he really Smoked and
made
meditated.
THE CHILDREN'S JOKE. The young till
folks
had a grand
ten o'clock, while
mamma
revel,
89
and kept
it
up
lay awake, longing to
go down and see what they were about, and papa fell
shortly
asleep, quite
exhausted by the society of
Grammar.
a Latin
"Idle boy,
is
this
the
Harry, audaciously tweaking him by the "
No,
the
it 's
way you
said
way you study?" "
do;
ear.
and feeling that
his
day
of bondage was* over, papa cast off his allegiance,
tucked a child under each arm, and marched upwith them, kicking and screaming. Setting
stairs
them down "
at the nursery door,
them
finger at
Wait
a
bit,
he
said,
shaking his
in an awful manner,
you
rascals,
and see what you
will get
to-morrow."
With
this
dark threat he vanished into his
room, and a minute
own
after a great burst of laughter
set their fears at rest.
" It
Harry "
was a
fair bargain,
so I 'm not afraid," said
stoutly.
He
kissed us good-night though he did glower
at us, so I guess
it
was only
fun,"
added Kitty.
AUNT
90 " Hasn't
it
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
been a fiinny day ?
"Don't think I quite
like
"
it,
asked Harry. every thing
is
so
turned round," said Kitty. " Guess they didn't like
it very well. Hear 'em and held his ; Harry up finger, for a murmur of had conversation followed the steady laughter in papa and mamma's room.
talking in there
"
" " I wonder if our said joke will do any good ?
Kitty thoughtfully. "
Wait and see," answered Aunt Betsey, popping her night-capped head out of her room with a nod and a smile that sent them to bed the future.
full
of hope for
DANDELION.
91
DANDELION. by the his wife,
and
sea lived little son,
Ben
the fisherman, with
who was
called
Dande-
because he wore yellow pinafores, and had
lion,
curly, yellow
hair, that
covered his head with a
A
very happy family, for Ben was golden fuzz. kind and industrious, Hetty, his wife, a cheerful, busy creature, and Dandelion the j oiliest three-yearold baby
who
ever
made
sand-pies and paddled on
the beach.
But one day and
his
usual,
a great trouble
came to them.
fellow-fishermen sailed
and Hetty watched the
blithely
fleet
boats out of the bay, thinking
looked with the sunshine on them
as
of white-winged
how ;
Ben
away
pretty they
while Dandelion
stood clapping his chubby hands, and saying, as he " Daddy tummin' soon." But Daddy always did, did not come soon that time; for a great storm
AUNT
92 arose,
home
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
and when some of the boats came scudding at nightfall, Ben's was not among them.
All night the gale raged, and in the morning, Ben's boat lay empty and broken on the shore. His mates
shook their heads when they saw the wreck, and their rough hands over their eyes; for Ben
drew
was a good seaman, and they knew he never would desert his boat alive. They looked for him far and wide, but could hear nothing of him, and that he
had perished
in the storm.
They
felt
sure
tried to
comfort poor Hetty, but she would not be comforted. Her heart seemed broken ; and if it had not been for her baby, her neighbors feared that she would have gone to join Ben in his grave under the sea. Dandelion didn't understand
and why never
why
every one was so sad,
away so long; but he never gave up hoping, or
his father stayed
lost his cheerfulness,
stopped saying, with a contented smile,
"Daddy The sunshiny little face was Hetty's only comfort. The sight of the fuzzy yellow head, bobbing round the house, alone made it endurable
tummin' soon."
;
and the touch of the loving baby hands kept her
DANDELION.
93
from the despair which made her long to end her sorrow in the sea. People don't believe in theless,
good
spirits
fairies
still
exist,
now-a-days neverand help us in our ;
times of trouble, better even than the
we used
spirits is called
Love, and
delion, to comfort
Labor
:
One of
to read about.
it
little
people
these household
took the shape of Dan-
poor Hetty.
Another
is
and
it
a beautiful, happy spirit this
is,
called
did
its
part so well that there
was
thoughts or vain regrets
for Hetty's spinning-wheel
must
;
little
time for bitter
go, in order to earn bread for Dandelion,
mouth was always ready bird's.
Busily
hummed
for food, like a
the wheel
;
and, as
whose
hungry it
flew,
seemed to catch an echo of the baby's cheerful song, saying, over and over, "Daddy tummin' soon,"
it
till
as she
Hetty stopped crying
to the cheerful whirr.
Ben
"
again, if I wait patiently.
in saying that,
and I
will get tired of
it
But Dandelion
will,
worked, and listened
Yes, I shall see
too
;
Baby
my good
takes comfort
though the poor dear
soon," she said. didn't get tired.
He
firmly be-
AUNT
94 lieved
mind.
what he
JO' 8
SCRAP-BAG.
and nothing could change his been much troubled at seeing the
said,
He had
boat laid up on the beach, all broken and dismantled, but his little mind couldn't take in the idea of
shipwreck and death decided that
new boat
to be sent to bring
was so strong that the favorite
him home.
This idea
child gathered together his
he had many, as they were and launched them, one plaything,
store of toy-boats, his
thinking it over, he waiting somewhere for a
so, after
;
Daddy was
for
after another, telling
them
to find his father,
and
bring him home.
As Dandelion was not
allowed to play on the
beach, except at low tide, the
little
boats sailed safely
the receding waves, and the child was sure that some of them would get safely into the distant
away on
port where
Daddy was
launched at
came
He
waiting.
last, all sailed
back, and
little
babbled about
it
All the boats were
bravely away
Dandy was much
;
but none
disappointed.
to himself; told the peeps and
the horse-shoes, the snails and the lobsters, of his trouble;
begged the
gulls to fly
away and
find
DANDELION.
*
Daddy and ;
when
the sea dashed
rattjed,
he would want
every windy night,
on the shore and the shutters
95
the lamp put in the window, as
it
used to be when
"they expected Ben, and tried to make cheerful, even before he got there.
Hetty used to humor the her heart ache to
At
such times
know
child,
home
though
look
made
it
that the light shone" in vain.
Dandy would prance about the room and talk about Daddy as happily
in his little shirt, as if long
him back. cradle, the
months had not passed without bringing
When
fairly in his big,
boy would
lie,
old-fashioned
looking more like a dande-
than ever, in his yellow flannel night-gown, playing with his toes, or rocking himself to and fro, lion
calling the cradle his boat,
mother that he was Daddy."
When
and
sailing
blithely telling his
" far
way
to
find
he lay still, and asked She had no heart for the gay
tired of play,
her to sing to him.
old sea-songs she used to sing for lullabies
;
so she
sung hymns in her soft, motherly voice, till the blue eyes closed and the golden head lay still, looking so pretty, with the circle of bright hair above the rosy
AUNT
96
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
"My little saint," Hetty called him; and though she often wept sadly as she watched him, the bitterness of her grief passed away, and a patient face.
hope came to her
;
for the child's firm faith
impressed
her deeply, the pious music of the sweet old hymns comforted her sore heart, and daily labor kept her
The neighbors woncheerful, in spite of herself. dered at the change that came over her, but she could not explain it; and no one knew that the three good spirits, called Love, Labor, and Hope, were working their pleasant miracles. Six long months went by, and no one ever thought
of seeing still
to
Ben
watched
meet him
One
no one but
again,
for
him
here, and
who who waited
his little son,
his wife,
hereafter.
bright spring day something happened.
house was as tidy as ever;
the wheel
The
hummed
Hetty sung softly to herself with a cheerthough there were white hairs among the brown, and her eyes had a thoughtful, absent look at times. Dandelion, more chubby and cheery than
briskly as ful face,
ever, sat at her feet, with the sunshine
making
a
DANDELION.
97
golden glory of his yellow hair, as he tried his new boat in the tub of water his mother kept for her little
sailor,
or tugged
a big needle which he
away with his was trying to
a bit of cloth intended for a soul
had not forgotten
fat fingers at
pull through
The
sail.
faithful little
but had come to
his father,
the conclusion that the reason his boats never pros-
pered was because they hadn't large enough so he
was intent on rigging a new boat
him, with a safely
home.
With
downy eyebrows big needle, he
not
that could not
sail
knit,
was
so
fail
to waft
mouth puckered
his
in his
Ben
at the
work that he did
mind the stopping of the wheel when Hetty
into a reverie, thinking of the
she and
Ben should meet
again.
;
up, his
and both hands pulling
wrapped
sails
lately given
fell
happy time when Sitting so, neither
heard a step come softly over the sand; neither saw an eager, brown face peer in at the door and neither knew, for a minute, that Ben was watching ;
them, with a love and longing in his heart that
made him tremble
like a
Dandelion saw him
woman.
first;
7
for,
as
he 'pulled the
AUNT
98
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
thread through with a triumphant jerk, the small sailmaker lost his balance, tumbled over, and lay staring
at the tall
up
man with
his blue eyes so
wide
they would never shut again. All of a sudden, he shouted, with a Joyful shout, open, they looked as
if
"Daddy's tummin'!" and the next instant, vanand all, in the arms of the man who
ished, ship
wore the rough jacket.
Over went the spinning-
wheel, as Hetty vanished likewise ; and for a time there
was nothing but sobbing and
kissing, cling-
ing, and thanking Heaven for its kindness to them. When they grew quieter, and Ben got into his old chair,
other,
with his wife on one knee and his boy on the he told them how he was wrecked in the gale,
picked up by an outward-bound ship, and only able to get back after months of sickness and delay. "
My boaty
fetched him," said Dandelion, feeling
that every thing had turned out just as he expected.
"So
it
did,
my
precious;
leastways, your faith
helped, I haven't a doubt," cried Hetty, hugging the
curly-headed prophet close, as she told
had happened.
Ben
all
that
DANDELION.
99
Ben didn't say much, but a few great tears rolled down the rough blue jacket, as he looked from the queer sail with its two big stitches to the little son, whose love, he firmly believed, had kept him safe through
dangers, and brought
many
him home
at
last.
When it
new boat was built, no one thought Ben named it " Dandelion " no one
the fine
strange that
;
which always hung over the fire-place in the small house; and long years after, when Ben was an old man, and sat by the laughed at the
little sail
door with his grandchildren on his knee, the story
which always pleased them best was that which ended with the funny words, "Daddy tummin'
AUNT
100
MADAM 'THHERE
AND HER FAMILY.
CLUCK,
a prouder mamma than Cluck when she led forth her family
never was
Madam of eight
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
downy
little
chicks.
Chanticleer, Strut,
Snowball, Speckle, Peep, Peck, Downy, and Blot were their names ; and no sooner were they out of the shell than they began to chirp and scratch as
gayly as if the big world in which they suddenly found themselves was made for their especial benefit. It
was a
find
luck with didn't
brood
;
but poor
Madam Cluck had bad
they were her first, and she how to manage them. Old Aunt Cockle-
her, chicks, for
know
" top told her that she didn't, and predicted that those
poor dears would come to bad ends."
Aunt Cockletop was
right, as you will see, when have told the sad history of this unfortunate The tragedy began with Chanty, who was family.
I
the boldest
little
cockadoodle
who
ever tried to crow.
MADAM
CLUCK,
AND HER FAMILY.
101
Before he had a feather to his bit of a
began to
fight,
tail, Chanty and soon was known as the most
quarrelsome chick in the farm-yard. his brothers
and
sisters,
Having picked
he tried to do the same to
his playmates, the ducklings,
goslings,
and young
turkeys, and was so disagreeable that all the fowls hated him. One day, a pair of bantams arrived,
pretty
little
white birds, with red crests and nice
yellow
feet.
Chanty thought he could beat Mr. he was so small, and invited him to
Bantam fight.
easily,
Mr. B. declined.
Then Chanty
called
him a
coward, and gave Mrs. B. a peck, which so enraged her spouse that he flew at Chanty like a game-cock,
and a dreadful
fight followed,
ty's utter defeat, for
Downy and sweet
little
which ended in Chan-
he died from his wounds.
Snowball soon followed ; for the two
things would swing on the burdock-leaves
grew over the brook. Sitting side by side, the plump sisters were placidly swaying up and down over the clear brown water rippling below, when that
ah
!
leaf,
sad to relate chickens and
the stem broke, and all,
to a watery death.
down went
AUNT
102
JO'S SCRAP-BAG. "
" I'm the
most unlucky hen ever hatched! groaned Madam Cluck and it did seem so, for the very poor next week, Speckle, the best and prettiest of the ;
brood, went to walk with "
hoppering the road. sure
;
they called
What
it,
Aunt
Cockletop,
"
grass-
in the great field across
a nice time Speckle did have, to be
for the grasshoppers
were
lively
and
fat,
and
aunt was in an unusually amiable mood. u Never run away from any thing, but face danger
and conquer
it,
like a
brave chick," said the old
biddy, as she went clucking through the grass, with
her gray turban wagging in the wind. Speckle had hopped away from a toad with a startled chirp,
The words when a shadow above
which caused aunt to utter that remark.
had hardly
made her
left
her beak,
look up, give one loud croak of alarm, and
then scuttle away, as fast as legs and wings could carry her. Little Speckle,
remembering the advice, and un-
conscious of the danger, stood her ground as a great
hawk came sudden
dart,
circling nearer
and nearer,
till,
with a
he pounced on the poor chicken, and
MADAM bore
it
away
not to run.
CLUCK,
AND HER FAMILY.
chirping dismally,
Oh, dear
!
oh, dear
told
"Aunty
What
!
103
me
shall I
do?" It
was a dreadful blow to Mrs. Cluck
;
and Aunt
Cockletop didn't show herself for a whole day after that story was known, for every fowl in the yard twitted her with the difference between her preaching and her practice. Strut, the other son, was the vainest chick ever seen
;
and the great aim of
his life
was to crow
louder than any other cock in the neighborhood.
He was was
at
it
from morning
till
night,
and every one
tired to death of hearing his shrill, small voice
making funny attempts to produce hoarse little crows, as he sat on the wall and stretched his yellow neck, till
his throat quite
"Ah!
if I
ached with the
effort.
could only fly to the highest
beam
in
the barn, and give a splendid crow that every one
could hear, I should be perfectly happy," said this silly little fowl, as
old cock often
So he
he stared up at the
loft
where the
sat.
tried every
day to
fly
and crow, and
at last
AUNT
104
managed
to get
tle .his feathers,
up
;
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
how he
then
did strut and rus-
while his playmates sat below and
watched him. ''You'll fall
and get hurt," said
"Hold your
tongue, you ugly
down
there,
little
thing,
and
I'm going to crow, and can't be
don't talk to me.
interrupted
his sister Blot.
by any silly and hear if
bit of a hen.
I can't
do
it
Be
quiet,
as well as
daddy."
The
chicks stopped scratching and peeping, and
sat in a
row
to hear Strut crow.
on the beam, he
" cock-a-doodle-doo
laughed.
Perching himself
tried his best, but "
came of
it,
and
only a droll all
the chicks
That made Strut mad, and he resolved
crow, even if he killed himself doing
it.
He
to
gave
an angry cluck, flapped his wings, and tried again. he leaned so far forward
Alas, alas, for poor Strut
!
in his frantic effort to get a big
toppled over and
fell
bump on
crow
out, that
he
the hard barn-floor,
killing himself instantly.
For some time remaining
little
after this,
Mrs. Cluck kept her three
ones close to her
side,
watching over
MADAM
CLUCK,
them with maternal
AND HER FAMILY.
care,
till
of her anxious duckings.
105
they were heartily tired Peep and Peck were
always together, being very fond of one another.
Peep was a most inquisitive chicken, poking her head into every nook and corner, and never satisfied till
she had seen
all
was to
there
Peck was a
see.
glutton, eating every thing she could find,
making
herself
ting to eat a " Don't
ill
little
by gobbling too
"
and often
and
forget-
gravel to help digest her food.
go out of the barn, and can't look
to lay an egg, said their
fast,
children. after
I'm going
you just now,"
mother one day.
Yes, ma'am," chirped the chickens
;
and then, as
she went rustling into the hay-mow, they began to
run about and enjoy themselves with all their might. Peep found a little hole into the meal-room, and slipped
and
in, full
bins.
"
of joy at the sight of the bags, boxes,
I'll
Peck," she said thing, she
;
eat all I want,,
and then
I'll
call
and having taken a
taste of every
when
she heard the
was about to
leave,
stable-man coming, and in her night couldn't find the hole, so flew into the meal-bin and hid herself.
AUNT
106
Sam
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
m
never saw her, but shut
bin as he passed, and
left. poor
down
the cover of the
Peep to
die.
No
one
knew what had become of her till some days later, when she was found dead in the meal, with her poor little
claws sticking straight up, as
if
imploring help. for, in her
Peck, meanwhile, got into mischief also
;
hunt for something good to eat, she strayed into the sheep-shed, and finding some salt, ate as much as she liked, not knowing that salt
is
bad
for hens.
Having taken all she wanted, she ran back to the barn, and was innocently catching gnats when her mamma came out of the hay-mow, with a loud " Cut-cut-cut-ca-dar-cut ! " " "
Where
" Don't
is
Peep ?
know, ma.
asked Mrs. Cluck.
She "
there
Peck stopped
suddenly, rolled up her eyes, and began to stagger
about as "
if
she was tipsy.
Mercy on us
chick ?
"
!
.
What's the matter with the
cried Mrs. Cluck, in great alarm.
"Fits, ma'am," answered Doctor Drake,
who
just
then waddled by. " Oh what can I do ? " screamed the distracted !
hen.
MAQAM "
CLUCK,
Nothing, ma'am
waddled on to of the pip. "
My
me
Let
child,
visit
my
AND HER FAMILY.
it's
;
Dame
child
hold you!
!
fatal."
.
And
Partlet's son,
107
the doctor
who was
ill
don't flap and stagger so
Taste this mint-leaf!
!'
Have a
"
What shall I do ? drop of water As poor Mrs. Cluck sighed and sobbed, her un!
happy child went scuffling about on her back, gasping and rolling up her eyes in great anguish, for she had eaten too much of the fatal salt, and there was no help for her. When all was over, they buried the dead chicken under a currant-bush, covered the little grave with chickweed, and the bereaved parent string round her leg for a month. " the last of that bright band," needed
wore a black Blot,
no
mourning, for she was as black as a crow. This was the reason why her mother never had loved her as
much
as she did the others,
or yellow.
by every one ered for
;
who were
all
white, gray,
Blot had been much neglected but now her lonely mamma discov-
Poor
little
how good and
affectionate a chicken she was,
Blot was a great comfort to her, never running
108
away or disobeying in any way, but always close to her side, ready to creep under her wing, or bripg her a plump her.
bug when the poor biddy's
giving drew near,
when
ducks, and geese
Thanks-
their surviving relatives,
for turkeys, hens,
and were seen by featherless, pale, and stiff,
a prey to
fell
till
a dreadful pestilence seemed
sweep through the farm-yard;
to
appetite failed
They were very happy together
it,
borne away to some unknown place whence no fowl returned. Blot was waked one night by a great cackling and fluttering in the hen-house, and peeping
down from her
perch,
saw a great hand
the roost, clutch her beloved mother pull her
by,
my
off,
glide along
by the
leg,
and
screaming dolefully, "Good-by, good-
darling -child
" !
Aunt Cockletop pecked and croaked
fiercely
;
tough as she was, the old biddy did not escape, and many another amiable hen and gallant cocka-
but,
doodle
fell
a victim to that mysterious hand.
the morning few remained, and Blot
was a sit
felt
In
that she
forlorn orphan, a thought which caused her to with her head under her wing for several hours,
MADAM
AND HER FAMILY.
CLUCK,
109
brooding over her sad lot, and longing to join her family in some safe and happy land, where fowls live
She had her wish very soon,
in peace.
when cold,
the
first
for
one day,
snowflakes began to flutter out of the
gray sky, Blot saw a little kitten mewing under the fence.
piti-
fully as it sat
"
What
is
" I'm lost,
the matter, dear ?
and I
can't find
"
asked kind Blot.
my way home," answered
the kitten, shivering with cold.
farm-house over the
" I live at the red
only I don't
hill,
know which
road to take." "
I'll
coming
show you. on,
Come
and the snow
at
once, for night
will soon
be too deep
is
for
us," said Blot.
So away they went, could carry them ; but
as fast as their small legs
it
was a long way, and dusk
came on before the red farm-house appeared. " Now I'm safe thank you very much. Won't ;
~
you come
My mother
will
be glad to see you," said the kit, rubbing her white face against Blot's little black breast.
soft
"
It's
in,
and stay
all
night
?
against the rule to stay out
all
night,
and I
AUNT
110
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
promised to be in early so, good-by, dear." And off trotted Blot along the snowy road, hoping to get home before the hen-house door was shut. Faster ;
and
snow, darker and darker grew the and colder and colder became poor Blot's
faster fell the
night,
feet as. she
little
waded through the
drifts.
The
firelight was shining out into the gloom, as the halffrozen chicken came into the yard, to find all doors
shut,
and no shelter
leafless tree.
Too
left for
stiff
her but the bough of a
and weak to
as close as possible to the bright
fly up,
she crept
glow which shone
across the door-step, and with a shiver put her
little
head under her wing, trying to forget hunger, weariness, and the bitter cold, and wait patiently for morning. frozen
But when morning came, little Blot lay under a coverlet of snow and the
stiff
;
tender-hearted children sighed as they dug a grave for the last of the unfortunate family of the Clucks.
A CURIOUS
A CURIOUS
-
T HAVE
often
CALL.
CALL.
wondered what the various
standing about the city think of
what
criticisms they
doings, if
Ill
all
statues
day, and
would make upon us and our I frequently stop and
they could speak.
wondering if they don't feel lonely ; they wouldn't be glad of a nod as wo go by ; and I always long to offer my umbrella to shield their stare at them,
if
uncovered heads on a rainy day, especially to good Ben Franklin, when the snow lies white on his benevolent forehead.
was always fond of
I
gentleman ; and one of little girl,
was that of
when he was with a as
roll
my
his early
life,
and the time
walked about Philadelphia of bread under each arm, eating a third so poor he
he went.
I
never pass without giving him a
respectful look, and. wishing he could
grateful I
this old
favorite stories wljen a
am
for all
know how
he had done in the printing
AUNT
112
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
line; for, without types
and
where would
presses,
the books be?
Well, I never imagined tha"t he understood why tall woman in the big bonnet stared "at him ; but
the
he it
did,
and he liked
it,
and managed to
in a very curious manner, as
As
I look out, the
first
you
me know
let
shall hear.
thing I see
is
the great gilt
There he
eagle on the City-Hall dome.
sits,
with
open wings, all day long, looking down on the people, who must appear .like ants scampering busily to
and
fro
about an
rustles in
him
;
when
silver
she comes glit-
up the sky. When it rains, he never shakes snow beats on him without disturbing
his feathers
;
his stately repose
his
shines on
;
moonlight turns him to tering
The sun
ant-hill.
morning the gay flag waves and the wind above him sometimes and the
splendidly in the
wing
;
and he never puts
at night, but keeps
day, like a faithful sentinel. bird, call
him
my
guard
his
I like the big, lonely
particular fowl,
and often wish
he'd turn 'his head and speak to me.
did actually do
it,
or
head under
in darkness as in
seemed to
;
One
for I've
night he
never been
A CURIOUS
wh^her
it
was a stormy night
It
113
dreamed what I'm going
able to decide whether I to tell you, or
CALL.
really happened. ;
and, as I
drew down
to catch a glimpse of
snow
driving " Poor
Goldy
!
he'll
Then
I sat
down by my
but I can't prove it.
fire,
took
it,
when
;
of a
human
who
a minute the tap came again it
was
at the
thinking that one of perhaps.
thing
fall
and
asleep;
my
door, as I
Mr. Poe did
him a
call.
Not
was.
No
a sign
soul in the long hall, only little Jessie,
the poodle, asleep on her mat.
knew
it
hope
perch."
no more about
in," just as
that unpleasant raven paid
one came, so I went to see
I
my knitting,
so we'll say
and I said " Come
neighbor, it.
his
off
All at once there came a tap at
thought
I
him
I'm sure I didn't
to meditate.
began
my
have a rough time of
northeaster won't blow
this
my
through the
curtain, I said to myself, after peering
Up
so big
;
Down this
I sat
;
but in
time so loud that
window, and went to open it, my doves wanted to come in
went the
sash,
and
in
and so bright that
scared me. 8
bounced someit
dazzled and
AUNT
114 " Don 2 t
be frightened, ma'am ;
a hoarse voice.
So I collected
and looked
eyes,
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
my
at
eagle off the City Hall !
only me," said
it's
my wits,
visitor.
It
rubbed my* was the gold
I don't expect to be be-
lieved ; but I wish you'd been here to see, for I give
you
my
word,
it
was
How he
sight to behold.
.a
ever got in at such a small
window
I can't
tell
;
but
there he was, strutting majestically up and down the room, his golden and his keen
plumage
eyes flashing as he walked.
what to I
had
do.
my
him a chair
rustling,
I really didn't
know
I couldn't imagine what he came for ;
doubts about the propriety of offering and he was so much bigger than I ex;
pected that I was afraid he might fly away with me, as the roc did with Sinbad ; so I did nothing but sidle to the door,
ready to whisk out,
if
my
guest appeared to be peckishly inclined. spectful silence
seemed to
or two, he paused,
getting on."
him
;
respects,
My
for, after
nodded gravely, and
"Good-evening, ma'am.
you old Ben's
suit
strange re-
a turn
said affably,
I stepped over to bring
and to see how you were
A CURIOUS CALL.
115
" I'm very much obliged, sir. May I inquire who Mr. Old-Ben is ? I'm afraid I haven't the honor of his acquaintance." " have
Yes, you
yard.
you
;
it's
Ben
You know him and ;
Franklin, of City-Hall
he wished
me
to thank
your interest in him."
for
" Dear
me how !
sir?" " Never
sit
!
I'll
very odd
!
Will you
sit
down,
" and the great fowl perch here ;
took his accustomed attitude just in front of the fire,
my
looking so very splendid that I couldn't keep eyes off of him.
" Ah
you often do
!
that.
Never mind
like it," said the eagle, graciously, as
;
I rather
he turned his
eye upon me. I was rather abashed ; but being very curious, I ventured to ask a few ques-
brilliant
he seemed in a friendly mood. Being a woman, sir, I'm naturally of an inquiring turn and I must confess that I have a strong tions, as
"
;
know how it happens that you take your walks abroad, when you are supposed to be permadesire to
nently engaged at
home ? "
AUNT
116
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
He
shrugged his shoulders, and actually winked me, as he replied, "That's all people know of
at
what goes on under, or rather
over, their noses.
Bless you, ma'am!
roost every night,
and enjoy myself in expression
proper for
all
but, being
;
me
my
I leave
Excuse the
sorts of larks.
ornithological,
than for some people
it
who
more
is
use
it."
" " What a gay old bird thought I, feeling quite " Please tell me what at home after that. !
you
when
do,
the shades of evening prevail, and you go out
for a frolic?"
"I
am
a gentleman ; therefore I behave myself,"
returned the eagle, with a stately fess, I it's
smoke a great deal
:
the fault of the chimneys.
day, and I have to take
it
;
air.
"I
must con-
but that's not
They keep
just as
my it
you poor
fault,
up
all
ladies
have to take cigar smoke, whether you like it or not. My amusements are of a wholesome kind. I usually begin by taking a long flight down the harbor, for a look at the lighthouses, the islands, the shipping,
and the
sea.
ports to
me
My friends, ;
for
the gulls, bring their rethey are the harbor-police, and I
A CURIOUS CALL. take notes of their doings.
Then
see
school-ship
an
is
and I often perch on the
object of interest to me,
mast-head, to
The
117
how
the lads are getting on.
I take a turn over the city, gossip with the
weathercocks, pay
my
compliments to the
bells,
inspect the fire-alarm, and pick up information by listening at the telegraph wires.
about 'a don't
bird'
little
know how
who
People often talk
spreads news; but they
that figure of speech originated.
It is the sparrows sitting
on the
wires,
who
receive
the electric shock, and, being hollow-boned, the
news go
straight
ries it
to their heads;
they then
fly
on the housetops, and the air careverywhere. That's the way rumors rise and
about, chirping
it
news
spread." " If you'll allow,
esting fact," said I,
him.
He
jotted
down
me
I'll
make a note
wondering
appeared to
fall
if I
alluded to
the sparrow story, and
thank you
refreshment
it, ;
he
said,
;
might believe
into a reverie, while I
that perhaps I ought to offer
guest some
of that inter-
but,
it
occurred to
my distinguished
when
I modestly
with an aldermanic
I've just dined at the
" air,
No,
Parker House."
AUNT
118
Now,
I really could not swallow that; and so
plainly betrayed " The
plained.
my
incredulity, that the eagle ex-
savory smells which rise to
from that excellent
trils
sniff
my
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
hotel,
my
nos-
with an occasional
from the Tremont, are quite sufficient to satisfy for, having no stomach, I don't need ;
appetite
much
food, and I drink nothing but water." " I wish others would follow your example in that
latter habit," said I, respectfully, for I
to see that there
was something
he was hollow.
" Will
in
was beginning
my bird,
Chough you allow me to ask if the
other statues in the city fly by night ? " "
They promenade
have
in the parks
social gatherings,
;
when they
and occasionally discuss politics,
education, medicine, or any of the subjects in which
they are interested.
you
are all asleep.
Ah we !
have grand times when
It quite repays
me
for
being
obliged to make an owl of myself." " Do the statues come from the shops to these parties ?
"
I asked, resolving to take a late walk the
next moonlight night. " Sometimes but ; they get lazy and delicate,
liv-
A CURIOUS CALL. ing in close,
warm
119
We laugh
places.
at cold
and
bad weather, and are so strong and hearty that I shouldn't be surprised if I saw Webster and Everett flying
Common on
round the
the new-fashioned
velocipedes, for they believed in exercise.
and
Schiller often step over
dow, to flirt with the goddesses, from their niches on Horticultural Hall. robust young
women
your niminy-piminy
would stop
tilting
the true Grecian
are
girls
Pomona and
is
Nice,
Flora.
If
could see them run, they
through the
Bend
Goethe
De Vries's winwho come down
from
streets,
and learn that
the line of beauty always
found in straight shoulders, well-opened chest, and an upright figure, firmly planted on active feet." " In
misery
your rambles don't you find a great deal of " ? said I, to change the subject, for he was
evidently old-fashioned in his notions. " " And he shook his head with Many sad sights a sigh ; then added, briskly, " But there is a deal of !
charity in our city, and
By
it
does
its
work
beautifully.
the by, I heard of a very sweet charity the other
day,
a church whose
Sunday school
is
open to
all
AUNT
120
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
who
the poor children
will
.
come; and
in
there,
pleasant rooms, with books, pictures, kindly teachers,
and a fatherly minister to welcome them, the poor creatures find refreshment for their hungry
little
souls. '
text,
I like that
it's
;
a lovely illustration of the
Suffer little children to
come unto me
'
;
and
I
call it practical Christianity."
He
did like
it,
my
benevolent old bird; for he
rustled his great wings, as if he
them,
there had only been
if
wanted to clap
room; and every
feather shone as if a clearer light than that of little fire
had
fallen
on
" You are a literary
it
"
Ahem
!
me I
with
do a
my
he spoke.
woman, hey ?
new
denly, as if he'd got a
pounce upon
as
idea,
"
he said sud-
and was going to
it.
little in
that line," I answered,
with a modest cough.
"Then
tell
people about that place-; write some and help teach them do ; go
stories for the children
something, and
make
;
others do
what they can to
increase the Sabbath sunshine that brightens one
day in the week shady places."
for the
poor babies
who
live in
A CURIOUS "I should be glad to do
known
before
"
CALL.
my
121
best;
and, if I'd
I began.
" You
you.
might have known, if you'd looked about People are so wrapped up in their own affairs
they don't do half they might. a bit of paper, and
I'll
Now,
then,
hand me
give you the address, so you
won't have any excuse for forgetting what I
tell
you." " I,
Mercy on us
as he
!
what
will
" he do next ? thought
tweaked a feather out of his
breast,
gave the
nib a peck, and then coolly wrote these words on the the card I handed him " Church :
Knock) and letters of
it
gold
shall be ;
opened!"
of There
and, while I looked at
reproached that I hadn't
known
it
sooner,
Disciples. it
was, in
it,
feeling
my friend,
he didn't seem a stranger any more, said in a back his pen, " Now I
business-like tone, as he put
must be
off.
Old Ben reads an
article
on the Abuses '
of the Press at the present day,' and I must be there to report." " It must be very interesting.
I suppose
you don't
allow mortals at your meetings ? " said'I, burning to go, in spite of the storm.
AUNT
122 "
No, ma'am.
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
We meet on the
Common
;
and, in
the present state of the weather, I don't thing flesh
and blood would stand wood, are sterner " Good
stuflj
evening
it.
Bronze, marble, and
and can defy the elements."
pray, call again," I said, hos-
;
pitably.
"I
me
will; your eyrie suits
can't take
my
eye off
deal of watching, eight.
my
Tour watch
Old South.
don't expect
I'm on duty then, and charge. The city needs a
away
my
dear.
is
Bless
me
!
it's
striking
seven minutes slow by the
Good-night, good-night!"
And as I opened me
me; but
to call in the daytime.
the window, the great bird soared
like a flash of light
through the storm, leaving
so astonished at the whole performance that I
haven't got over
it yet.
TILLY'S CHRISTMAS.
123
TILLY'S CHRISTMAS.
"T'M -*-
"
so glad
to-morrow
going to have lots o
So
am
I glad,
is
Christmas, because I'm
presents."
though I don't expect any pres-
ents but a pair of mittens." " And so am I but I shan't have ;
any presents
at
all."
As the three little girls trudged home from school they said these things, and as Tilly spoke, both the others looked at her with pity and
some
surprise,
and they wondered howshe could be happy when she was so poor she could have no presents on Christmas.
for she spoke cheerfully,
" Don't
you wish you could
find a purse full of
money right here in the path?" who was going to have " lots of "Oh,
don't
I, if I
could keep
said Kate, the child "
presents." it
honestly!" and
Tilly's eyes shone at the very thought.
AUNT
124
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
"What would you buy?" asked Bessy, rubbing her cold hands, and longing for her mittens. " I'd buy a pair of large, warm blankets, a load of wood, a shawl for mother, and a pair of shoes for
me and ;
new
hat,
if there was enough left, I'd give Bessy a and then she needn't wear Ben's old felt
one," answered Tilly.
The girls laughed at that but Bessy pulled the funny hat over her ears, and said she was much obliged, but she'd rather have candy. ;
"Let's look, and
may be we can
People are always going about with
find a purse.
money at
Christ-
and some one may lose it here," said Kate. the snowy road, they So, as they went along
mas
time,
looked about them, half in earnest, half in fun.
Suddenly Tilly sprang forward, exclaiming, " I see it I've found it " !
!
The
others followed, but
lay upon the
benumbed with
stopped disappointed ; little bird.
It
wings spread and feebly too weak to fly. Its little feet were
snow with
fluttering, as if
all
was only a
for it wasn't a purse, it
cold
;
its
its
once bright eyes were dull
TILLY'S CHRISTMAS.
125
with pain, and instead of a blithe song, utter a faint chirp,
now and
help. "
Nothing but a stupid old robin "
ing
cried Kate, sitting
!
"I
shan't touch
care of
it,
minute
it
it
could only
then, as if crying for
down
how
;
I found one once,
it.
provok-
to rest.
and took
and the ungrateful thing flew away the was well," said Bessy, creeping under
Kate's shawl, and putting her hands under her chin to
warm "
them.
Poor
little
birdie
!
How
pitiful
he looks, and
how
glad he must be to see some one coming to help him! I'll take him up gently, and carry him home to mother. Don't be frightened, dear, I'm
your friend;" and Tilly knelt down in the snow, stretching her hand to the bird with the tencterest pity in her face.
Kate and Bessy laughed. " Don't
cold
:
stop for that thing
let's
go on and look
;
it's
getting late and
for the purse," they said,
moving away.
"You
wouldn't leave
it
to dieP'
cried
Tilly.
AUNT
126
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
"I'd rather have the bird than the money, so I shan't look any more. The purse wouldn't be mine, and I should only be tempted to keep it but this ;
poor thing I
came
will
thank and love me, and I'm so glad
in time."
Gently
the bird, Tilly
lifting
felt its
claws cling to her hand, and saw brighten as
it
"^ow I've
down with
nestled
its
tiny cold
dim eyes
a grateful chirp.
got a Christmas present after
all,"
she
"I
always wanted a bird, and this one will be such a pretty pet
walked on.
said, smiling, as -they
for mei"
"He'll fly
anyhow
;
away the
first
chance he gets, and die
so you'd better not waste your time over
him," said Bessy. "
He
"
My mother says, Do
can't pay you for taking care of him, and mother my says it isn't worth while to help folks that can't help us," added Kate. *
I'm sure I'd
like
be done by ; ' and
any one to help me if I was dying Love your neighbor as your-
of cold and hunger. self? is
as you'd
'
another of her sayings.
This bird
is
my
little
TILLY'S CHRISTMAS.
127
him and
care for him,
neighbor, and
I'll
love
would love and
as I often wish our rich neighbor
warm who looked up at to feel and know a
care for us," answered Tilly, breathing her
breath over the
benumbed
bird,
her with confiding eyes, quick friend.
" you are," said Kate caring and talking about loving your
w What a funny girl for that silly bird,
;
neighbor in that sober way. Mr. King don't care a bit for you, and never will, though he knows how
poor you are ; so I don't think your plan amounts to much."
"I believe any way. Christmas,
though; and
it,
and
lots
shall
do
my
part,
I hope you'll have a
Good-night.
of pretty things,"
merry answered
Tilly, as they parted.
Her eyes were
full,
and she
went on alone toward the she lived. that she all
It
would have been
was going
felt
little
so poor as she
old house where
so pleasant to
know
some of the pretty things in their full stockings on
to have
children love to find
Christmas morning.
And
pleasanter
still
to have
AUNT
128
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
been able to give her mother something nice. So many comforts were needed, and there was no hope of getting them ; for they could barely get food and fire.
"
we
Never mind, birdie, we'll make the best of what have, and be merry in spite of every thing. You
shall
God
have a happy Christmas, any way and us, if every one else does." ;
I
know
won't forget
She stopped a minute to wipe her her cheek against the bird's comfort in the
little
eyes,
and lean
soft breast, finding great
creature,
though
it
could only
love her, nothing more. " See, mother, what a nice present I've found,"
she cried, going in with a cheery face that was like
sunshine in the dark room. " I'm glad of that, dearie
to get
my
Poor bird
!
little
Give
girl it
;
for I haven't
been able
any thing but a rosy apple. some of your warm bread and
milk." "
Why,
you gave
mother, what a big bowlful
me
all
!
I'm afraid
the milk," said Tilly, smiling over
the nice, steaming supper that stood ready for her.
TILLY'S CHRISTMAS. "I've had plenty, dear.
wet
feet,
warm
Sit
and put the bird
129
down and dry your
my
in
basket on this
flannel."
into -the
Tilly peeped
closet
and saw nothing
there but dry bread.
"Mother's given without her I'll
surprise her,
She
too.
is
me
all
tea, 'cause she
and she
going to
the milk, and
is
going
knows I'm hungry.
Now
have a good supper wood, and I'll fix it while
shall
split
she's gone."
So Tilly put down the old tea-pot, carefully poured out a part of the milk, and from her pocket produced a great, plummy bun, that one of the school-children
had given
for her mother.
toasted,
and the
When
it.
her,
and she had saved
A slice of the dry bread was nicely bit of butter set
by
for
her put on
her mother came in there was the table
drawn up in a warm place, a hot cup of tea ready, and Tilly and birdie waiting for her. Such a poor one
;
there,
supper, and yet such a happy and contentment were guests and that Christmas eve was a blither one little
for love, charity,
AUXT
130
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
than that up at the great house, where lights shone, blazed, a great tree glittered, and music
fires
sounded, as the children danced and played. "
We
must go to bed
enough to
my work
last
my
bird
was only a
give us three wishes, dear, he can't give ter,"
answered
how
me any
we can
by the it
thing
get some,"
fire.
and would
fairy bird,
nice
wood
I shall be paid for
the day after, and then
said Tilly's mother, as they sat
"If
we've only
early, for
over to-morrow.
would be ;
but
it's
Tilly, looking at the robin,
Poor
!
no mat-
who
lay
with his head under his wing, a mere feathery bunch.
in the basket little
"He
can give you one thing, Tilly,
in life;
That
the pleasure
one of the sweetest things and the poor can enjoy it as well as the
of doing good.
is
rich."
As her mother stroking her started
spoke, with her tired
little
hand
softly
daughter's hair, Tilly suddenly
and pointed to the window, saying,
in a
frightened v/hisper, "I
saw a
gone now
;
face,
a man's face, looking in
but I truly saw
it."
!
It's
TILLYS CHRISTMAS. " I'll
Some
traveller attracted
go and
And
see."
by the
Tilly's
131 light perhaps.
mother went to the
door.
No
The wind blew
one was there.
snow
shone, the
the Christmas
"What
lay white on
moon was
sort of
cold, the stars
and wood, and
field
glittering in the sky.
a face
was it?"
asked Tilly's
mother, coming back. "
A
pleasant sort of face, I think
startled I
wish
don't quite
we had
" I like to
for the road
I
am
;
but I was so
it
was
like.
have our is
light shine out in the evening,
dark and lonely just here, and the
We
is
pleasant to people's eyes as
can do so
glad to cheer the
little for
way
for
our neighbors,
them.
Now
put
these poor old shoes to dry, and go to bed, dearie I'll
come
I
a curtain there," said Tilly.
twinkle of our lamp
they go by.
know what
;
soon."
Tilly went, taking her bird with her to sleep in his
basket near by, lest he should be lonely in the night.
Soon the
little
house was dark and
one saw the Christmas
still,
and no
spirits at their work that night.
AUNT
132
When
Tilly opened the door next morning, she
gave a loud still,
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
quite
cry,
clapped her hands, and then stood
with wonder
speechless
and
delight.
There, before the door, lay a great pile of wood,
all
ready to burn, a big bundle and a basket; with a lovely nosegay of winter roses, holly, and evergreen tied to the handle.
"Oh, mother! did the
fairies
do it?" cried
Tilly,
pale with her happiness, as she seized the basket, while her mother took in the bundle.
"
Yes, dear, the best and dearest fairy in the world,
called
She walks abroad
*
Charity.'
time, does beautiful deeds like
this,
at
Christmas
and does not
stay to be thanked," answered her mother with full eyes, as she
undid the
parcel.
There they were,
the warm, thick blankets, the
comfortable shawl, the
new
shoes, and, best of
pretty winter hat for Bessy.
good things to
eat,
The basket was
all,
full
a
of
and on the flowers lay a paper
saying,
"For herself
the
little
girl
who
loves her neighbor as
TILLY'S CHRISTMAS. "
and
Mother, I really think all
my
these splendid things
bird
is
133 a fairy bird,
come from him,"
said
Tilly, laughing and crying with joy. It really did seem so, for as she spoke, the robin
flew to the table, hopped to the nosegay, and perch-
ing
among the roses, began to chirp with all his little The sun streamed in on flowers, bird, and
might.
happy
child,
and no one saw a shadow glide away no one ever knew that Mr. King
from the window
;
had seen and heard the
little girls
the night before,
or dreamed that the rich neighbor had learned a lesson from the poor neighbor.
And
Tilly's bird
was a
fairy bird
and tenderness to the helpless
good
gifts
fly
for
by her love
thing, she brought
to herself, happiness to the
giver of them, and a faithful
not
;
little
friend
unknown who did
away, but stayed with her till the snow was summer for her in the winter-time.
gone, making
AUNT
134
MY "VTO
LITTLE GENTLEMAN.
one would have thought of calling him this
who
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
so,
ragged, barefooted, freckle-faced Jack,
spent his days carrying market-baskets for the
butcher, or clean clothes for Mrs. Quinn, chips, or
selling
grubbing in the ash-heaps for cinders.
But
he was honestly earning his living, doing his duty as well as he knew how, and serving those poorer and more helpless than himself, and that is being a gentleman in the best sense of that
fine old
He
word.
had no home but Mrs. Quinn's garret and for this he paid by carrying the bundles and getting the cinders ;
for her
fire.
could
and
Food and
clothes he picked
his only friend
was
up
as
he
Her
little
Nanny. mother had been kind to him when the death of ;
his father left
him
all
alone in the world
;
and when
passed away, the boy tried to show his gratitude by comforting the little girl, who thought there was no one in the world like her Jack. she, too,
MY
LITTLE GENTLEMAN.
Old Mrs. Quinn took care of
135 till
her, waiting
she
was strong enough to work for herself; but Nanny had been sick, and still sat about, a pale, little shadow of her former
self,
with a white film slowly coming This was Jack's great
over her pretty blue eyes.
trouble, and he couldn't whistle it away as he did his own worries for he was a cheery lad, and when ;
the baskets were heavy, the
way
long, the weather
bitter cold, his poor clothes in rags, or his
stomach
empty, he just whistled, and somehow things seemed to get right. But the day he carried Nanny the first dandelions, and she felt of them, instead of looking at them, as she said, with such pathetic patience in her little face, " I don't see 'em ; but I know they're
pretty,
and
I like
'em
spring sunshine was
lots,"
all
Jack
spoiled
;
felt as if
the blithe
and when he
tried to
cheer himself up with a good whistle, his lips trembled so they wouldn't pucker. "
The poor
doubt
;
but
it
dear's eyes* could
would take a
who's agoing to pay away at her tub.
it ?
"
be cured, I
sight of
ain't
a
money, and
said Mrs. Quinn, scrubbing
AUNT
136
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
"
How much money ? "
"
A hundred
asked Jack.
dollars, I dare say.
Dr. Wilkinson's
me
once that he done something to a and asked a thousand dollars for it." lady's eyes,
cook told
to
Jack sighed a long, hopeless sigh, and went away fill the water-pails ; but he remembered the doc-
tor's name, and began to wonder how many years would take to earn a hundred dollars.
Nanny was very Quinn
patient; but,
it
by and by, Mrs. some
began to talk about sending her to
almshouse, for she was too poor to be burdened with
a helpless
The
child.
Jack's heart
;
fear
of this nearly broke
and he went about with such an
it was a mercy Nanny did not see Jack was only twelve, but he had a hard load to
anxious face that it.
carry just then
doomed
;
for the
thought of his
to lifelong darkness for
money, tempted him to gave him the first fierce, better off than he.
steal
little
friend,
want of a
little
more than once, and
bitter feeling against those
When
he carried nice dinners to
the great houses and saw the plenty that prevailed there,
he couldn't help feeling that
it
wasn't
fair for
MY some
to have so
LITTLE GENTLEMAN. much, and others so
little.
137
When
he saw pretty children playing in the park, or driving with their mothers, so gay, so well cared for, so tenderly loved, the poor boy's eyes would
think of poor
world but himself,
When
fill
to
Nanny, with no friend in the and he so powerless to help her.
little
he one day mustered courage to ring at
the great doctor's bell, begging to see
him a minute,
and the servant answered, gruffly, as he shut the " Go door, along he can't be bothered with the like !
of you
down
" !
Jack clenched
boyish tone,
him
his
hands hard as he went
the steps, and said to himself, with a most un-
let
me
" I'll
in
get the
money somehow, and moke
" !
He did get it, and in a most unexpected way but he never forgot the desperate feeling that came to him that day, and all his life long he was very ;
tender to people
who were tempted
in their times
of trouble, and yielded, as he was saved from doing, by what seemed an accident.
Some days was grubbing
after his,
attempt at the doctor's, as he
in a newly-deposited ash-heap,
with
AUNT
138
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
the bitter feeling very bad, and the trouble very
heavy, he found a dirty old pocket-book, and put in his
bosom "without stopping to examine
many boys and
girls
were scratching,
like a
it
it; for
brood
round him, and the pickings were " unusually good, so no time must be lost. Findings " is havings was one of the laws of the ash-heap of chickens,
haunters
;
all
and no one thought of disputing another's spoons and knives that occasionally
right to the
found their way into the ash-barrels ; while bottles, old shoes, rags, and paper, were regular articles of
among them. Jack got a good basketful 'that and when the hurry was over sat down to rest day and clear the dirt off his face with an old silk duster traffic ;
which he had picked out of the rubbish, thinking Mrs. Quinn might wash it up for a handkerchief.
But he
it
he saw
figures on It
day for, with and on opening
didn't wipe his dirty face that
the rag, out tumbled a pocket-book
money. all
of them,
Yes
;
;
a roll of
;
bills,
with two
three tens and one twenty.
took his breath away for a minute ; then he tight in both his grimy hands,
hugged the old book
MY
LITTLE GENTLEMAN.
and rocked to and
fro all in a
and rusty
ter-shells
139
heap among the oys-
tin kettles, saying to himself,
with tears running down his cheeks, O Nanny now I can do it "
"O Nanny!
!
!
I don't think a basket of cinders ever travelled at
such a rate before as Mrs. Quinn's did that day ; for
Jack tore home at a great pace, and burst into the " room, waving the old duster, and shouting, Hooray I've got It is his wits all
it
!
I've got
it
!
" !
no wonder Mrs. Quinn thought he had lost for he looked like a wild boy, with his face
;
streaked with tears and red ashes, as ho danced
a double-shuffle
till
he was breathless, then show-
money Nanny's lap, and hugged her " which ended in a choke. with another " Hooray ered the
into
!
When
they got him quiet and heard the story, Mrs.
Quinn rather damped his joy, by telling him the wasn't his, and he ought to advertise it. " " and " But I want it for cried Jack Nanny
money
!
how
can I ever find
who owns
;
it,
when
there was
ever so many barrels emptied in that heap, and no " one knows where they came from ?
AUNT
140
u It's very like
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
you won't
find the owner,
can do as you please; but
it's
honest to
and you try, I'm
some poor girl may have lost her eamway, and we wouldn't like that ourselves,"
thinking, for in's this
said Mrs. Quinn, turning over the shabby pocket-
book, and carefully searching for some clue to
its
owner.
Nanny looked very sober, and Jack grabbed up money as if it were too precious to lose. But
the
he wasn't comfortable about fight
it;
and
with himself he consented to
after a
let
ask their policeman what they should do. a kindly
man
;
hard
Mrs. Quinn
and when he heard the
He was
story, said
he'd do what was right, and if he couldn't find an
owner, Jack should have the
How
fifty dollars
back.
how Jack thought and dreamed of his money, day and night How Nanny ran to the door to listen when a heavy step came up the stairs and how wistfully the poor darkened hard
it
was to wait
!
!
!
eyes turned to the light which they longed to see again.
Honest John Floyd did
his duty, but
he didn't
MY owner
find the
LITTLE GENTLEMAN. so the old purse
;
141
came back
at last,
and now Jack could keep it with a clear conscience. Nanny was asleep when it happened and as they ;
sat counting the
boy,
"
doubt
dingy
Mrs. Quinn said to the
Jack, you'd better keep this for yourself. to do the child
if it's
I
and
any good and a heap of things, alone the books you hanker after so much. It
enough you need clothes and let
bills,
ain't likely you'll
;
shoes,
ever find another wallet.
It's all
and maybe you are only a chance throwing away you'll never have again." Jack leaned his head on his arms and stared at the luck about Nanny's eyes
spread out there, and looking so magnifi-
money,
all
cent to
him
world.
He
petite
did
splendid
wanted
it
so
;
that
it
seemed
as if it could
buy half the
did need clothes; his hearty boy's ap-
long for better food;
and,
oh!
how
would be to go and buy the books he had the books that would give him a long,
knowledge which was more enticing to wide-awake young mind than clothes and food to
taste of the his
poor little body. It wasn't an easy thing to do but he was so used to making small sacrifices that his
;
AUNT
142
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
the great one was less hard
;
and when he had
brooded over the money a few minutes in thoughtful silence, his eye went from the precious bits of paper to the dear little face in the trundle-bed, and he said, with a decided nod, " I'll give Nanny the chance, and
work
for
my
go without 'em."
things, or
Mrs. Quinn was a matter-of-fact body; but her hard old face softened when he said that, and she kissed him good-night almost as gently been his mother.
Next
as if she'd
day, Jack presented himself at Dr. Wilkin-
son's door,
with the money in one hand and
Nanny
in the other, saying boldly to the gruff servant, " I
want
I can
to see the doctor.
me
let
pay
;
so you'd better
in."
I'm afraid cross Thomas would have shut the door in the boy's face again, if tle blind girl,
who
it
that he couldn't resist the "
The
had not been
for the
mute
appeal.
doctor's going out ; but
a minute
" ;
and with that
where stood a
tall
lit-
looked up at him so imploringly
man
maybe he'll see you he led them into a room
putting on his gloves.
MY
LITTLE GENTLEMAN.
143
Jack was a modest boy but he was so afraid that Nanny would lose her chance, that he forgot himself, ;
and told the
little
story as fast as he could
told
it
well, too, I fancy; for the doctor listened attentively,
going from the boy's eager, flushed
his eye
figures,
shabby though
sat
up the half-shut
lifted
little
they were, illustrated the story
better than the finest artist could have done.
Jack ended, the doctor
face, to
two
the pale patient one beside him, as if the
Nanny on
eyelids,
When
his knee, gently
and
after
examining
the film a minute, stroked her pretty hair, and said so kindly that she nestled her little into his, " I think I can help you,
w^here you live, and
I'll
hand confidingly
my
attend to
it
Tell
me
at once, for
it's
dear.
high time something was done."
Jack told him, adding, with a manly air, as he showed the money, "I can pay you, sir, if fifty dollars
"
is
enough."
Quite enough," said the doctor, with a droll
smile.
" If
me.
it
isn't, I'll
work
for the rest, if you'll trust
Please save Nanny's eyes, and
I'll
do any
AUNT
144
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
thing to pay you!" cried Jack, getting red and
choky
in his earnestness.
The
doctor stopped smiling, and held out his hand " in a grave, respectful way, as he said, I'll trust you,
my
boy.
We'll cure
Nanny
first;
and you and
I
will settle the bill afterward."
Jack liked that; it was a gentlemanly way of doing things, and he showed his satisfaction by smiling all over his face, and giving the big, white
hand a hearty shake with both his rough ones. The doctor was a busy man but he kept them some time, for there were no children in the fine ;
house, and
it
seemed pleasant to have a
little
girl
knee and a bright boy stand beside his and when, at last, they went away, they chair; looked as if he had given them some magic medicine, sit
on
his
which made them forget every trouble they had ever known.
Next day the kind man came
that he stooped
down and
he touched her eyes.
Nanny
her
little fear,
but
to give
She had no doubt, and very looked up at him so confidingly when chance.
all
was ready,
kissed her softly before
MY
LITTLE GENTLEMAN.
"Let Jack hold not mind
then
my hands;
I'll
hurts me," she said.
if it
145
be
and
still,
So Jack, pale and kept the
with anxiety, knelt down before her, hands steadily in his all through the minutes
little
that seemed so long to him. " What do child
you see, my when he had done something
?
"
asked the doctor,
to both eyes, with a
quick, skilful hand.
leaned forward, with the film
Nanny
answered, with a
it
Only a
all
gone, and
cry of joy, that went to the
who heard
hearts of those oh, I see
little
it,
"Jack's face! I see
it!
" !
freckled,
tightly-set lips
;
round
the face of an angel
;
with bandaged eyes to dreams, for it
with wet eyes and
face,
Nanny it was as beautiful as and when she was laid away
but to
was the
haunted
all
her
face of the little friend
who
rest,
it
loved her best.
Nanny's chance was not a failure and when she saw the next dandelions he brought her, all the sun;
shine
came back
for Jack.
into the world brighter than ever
Well might
it
seem 10
so
;
for his fifty dollars
AUNT
146
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
bought him many things that money seldom buys. The doctor wouldn't take it at first but when Jack ;
the manful tone the doctor liked although it him smile, " It was a bargain, sir. I wish to
said, in
made pay
my
debts;
don't have
it
and
I shan't feel
her eyes.
all for
happy
if
Nanny
Please do
!
I'd
it; and Nanny did have it, but in clothes and food and
then he took
rather,"
not only for her eyes, care, many times over ; for
it
was invested
in a
bank
that pays good interest on every mite so given.
Jack discovered that
fifty dollars
was
far less
than
most people would have had to pay, and begged earnestly to be allowed to work for the rest. The doctor agreed to
this,
and Jack became
boy, serving with a willingness that
of duty
;
soon finding that
into his life; that
much
many
his errand-
made a
pleasure
comforts quietly got
help was given without
and that the days of hunger and rags, heavy burdens and dusty ash-heaps, were gone by for
words
;
ever.
The happiest hours doctor's chaise,
of Jack's day were spent in the
when he made
his
round of
visits;
MY for while
LITTLE GENTLEMAN.
147
he waited, the boy studied or read, and
while they drove hither and thither, the doctor talked with him, finding an eager mind as well as a
tender heart and a brave jacket of his
him
that;
little
for,
denial, honesty,
spirit
serving-man.
under the rough
But he never
all
self-
and loyalty to those he loved, shown
by the boy, the good doctor proved the virtues
called
remembering the cheerfulness,
men
his respect for
should covet, wherever they are
found, and always spoke of Jack with a smile, as
"My Little
Gentleman."
AUNT
148
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
BACK WINDOWS.
A
S I
sit working at my back window, I look out on a long row of other people's back windows; and it is quite impossible for me to help seeing and being interested in my neighbors. There
"***
are a good many children in those houses; and though I don't know one of their names, I know
them a great deal better than they think I <Jo. I never spoke a word to any of them, and never expect to do so
;
yet, I
have
my
tell
them
among them, and could
likes
and
dislikes
things that they
have said and done, which would astonish them very much, I assure you. First, the babies,
cratic baby, the
lorn baby.
The
for there are three
aristocratic
baby
well-furnished room, has a pretty
who wears
:
the aristo-
happy-go-lucky baby, and the lives little
in
for-
a fine,
mamma,
white gowns, and pink ribbons in her
BACK WINDOWS. cap
likewise, a fond
;
149
young papa, who evidently
thinks this the most wonderful baby in Boston.
There
is
who
a stout, motherly lady,
is
the grandma,
always hovering about "the " dear with cups, blankets, or a gorgeous red worsted bird to amuse it. Baby is a plump, rosy^sweet-faced I fancy,
little
for
she
is
creature, always smiling
to the world in general.
with
young seen,
and
own
its
mamma
my is
little
In
and kissing
its
its
hand
pretty white frocks,
pink or blue ribbons, and
proudly holding
it
up
aristocratic neighbor has
evidently one of the
to see
an easy
little
lilies
its
and be
life
of
it,
who do
nothing but blossom in the sunshine.
The happy-go-lucky baby and
is
just able to toddle
;
seldom pull up my curtain in the morning without seeing him at his window in his yellow I
flannel night-gown, taking a look
No
at the weather.
matter whether it^rains or shines, there he
is,
smiling and nodding, and looking so merry, that is
evident he has plenty of sunshine bottled
in his
own
little
on seeing him, and
heart for private use. feel as if
it
up
I depend
the world was not right
AUNT
150 until this
He
golden
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
little
sun
rises to shine
upon me.
don't seem to have any one to take care of him,
but trots about
Sometimes he
is
day, and takes care of himself.
all
up
in the chambers with the girl,
while she makes beds, and he helps then he takes a stroll into the parlor, and spins the gay curtain;
tassels to
his heart's content;
next, he dives into
the kitchen (I hope he does not tumble downstairs,
but I dare say he wouldn't mind
if
he did), and he
gets pushed about by all the busy women, as they u I rather think it gets too. hot for him fly round."
there
about dinner-time; for he often comes out
into the yard for a
walk
at noon,
and seems to
find
endless wonders and delights in the ash-barrel, the water-butt, plat, in
two old
flower-pots,
and a
little
which he plants a choice variety of
grass
articles,
I in the firm faith they will come up in full bloom. hope the big spoon and his own red shoe will sprout and appear before any trouble is made about their
At night I see a little mysterious disappearance. shadow bobbing about on the curtain, and watch it, till,
with a parting glimpse at a sleepy face at the
BACK WINDOWS. window,
my
151
small sun sets, and I leave
him
to hia
dreams.
The him
by
;
baby roars
forlorn
for
he
is
I pity that
he will stand tiny
fists,
who
it
little
for a
ready good he lives to try it.
him
and scolded like a
tussle
at nothing, as if getting
with the world by and by,
bless their buttons
!
and the
if
how amus-
One young man, aged about
The
meal-
long ; for I see him double up his
Then the boys, ing they are.
pathetic.
treats
neighbor, and don't believe
and spar away
keeps hens;
day, and I don't blame
trotted, shaken, spanked,
a very cross nurse,
bag.
all
ten,
of that boy are really biddies get out every day or two, trials
and
fly away all over the neighborhood, like feathers when you shake a pillow. They cackle and crow, and get up on sheds and fences, and trot down the
streets, all at once,
after
gets
them
and that poor fellow spins round One by one he
like a distracted top.
them and comes lugging them back, upside
down, in the most undignified attitude, and shuts them uj>, and hammers away, and thinks they are
AUNT
152 all safe,
and
sits
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
down
to rest,
when
crow from some neighboring shed that rascally black rooster
is
a triumphant
tells
him that
out again for another
promenade. I'm not bloodthirsty ; but I really do long for Thanksgiving, that my neighbor Hen-ry may find rest for the sole of his foot ; for, not till his poultry are safely eaten will he ever
they
know where
are.
Another boy has a circus about once a week, and to break his neck jumping through hoops,
tri^s
hanging to a rope by his heels, turning somersaults air, and frightening his mother out of her wits
in the
I suspect that he has been to see his pranks. Leotard, and I admire his energy, for he is never
by
discouraged; and, after tumbling flat, half-a-dozen he merely rubs his elbows and knees, and
times,
then up and takes another. There is a good, domestic boy,
who
brushes and
curls his three little sisters' hair every morning,
and
very gently, for they seem to like it; and I often see them watch at the back gate for
must do
it
him, and clap their hands, and run to meet him, sure
BACK WINDOWS. of being welcomed as the big brothers
153
little sisters like
whom
they love.
to be
met by
I respect that
virtuous boy.
The naughty boy
is very funny ; and the running he keeps up with the cross cook is as good as a farce. He is a torment, but I think she could
fight
tame him,
if
she took the right way.
day she wouldn't let
up her kitchen and wiped them on the
him his
in because she
The other had washed
boots were muddy.
grass,
He
but that wouldn't do;
and, after going at her with his head down, like a
battering-ram, he gave
it
seemed to
up, or
;
for,
the
minute she locked the door behind her and came out to take in her clothes, that sly dog whipped up
one of the low windows, scrambled a hornpipe
all
in,
and danced
over the kitchen, while the fat cook
scolded and fumbled for her key, for she couldn't follow through the window.
Of
course he
was
off
by the time she got in but I'm afraid he had a shaking, for I saw him glowering fiercely as upstairs
he came out
;
later
founded errand."
with a basket, going some " conOccasionally his father brings
AUNT
154
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
him out and whips him
for
some extra bad
offence,
during which performance he howls dismally; but when he is left sitting despondently and miraculously on an old chair without any seat, he soon
cheers up, boos at a strange cat, whistles to his dog,
who is just ing cure for
all
or
like him,
the
ills
know
I
falls
back on that stand-
that boys are heir
to,
and whit-
I ought to frown
upon this young person, and morally close my pranks but I really can't do it, and am
tles vigorously.
reprehensible
eyes to his
;
afraid I find this little black sheep the
most
interest-
ing of the flock.
The
girls
have tea-parties, make
mother, of course
;
and the
sisters
and play
calls,
of the good boy
have capital times up in a big nursery, with such tell which are the
large dollies that I can hardly
babies and which the
mammas.
One
little
girl
plays about at home with a dirty face, tumbled hair, and an old pinafore on. She won't be made tidy,
and I see her kick and cry when they try to make Now and then there is a great dressing
her neat.
and curling
;
and then
I see her prancing
away
in
BACK WINDOWS.
155
her light boots, smart hat, and pretty dress, looking as fresh as a daisy. But I don't admire her ; for I've
been behind the scenes, you see, and I know that she likes to be fine rather than neat.
So sister,
to
is
who torments
the girl
go out of the yard.
girl
her kitty, slaps her
and runs away when her mother
who
tells
her not
But the housewifely
little
tends the baby, washes the cups, and goes
to school early with a sunshiny face
round, she, now,
and
a neighbor worth having,
is
kiss all
and
I'd
put a good mark against her name if I knew it. I don't know as it would be proper for me to mention the grown-up people over the way. They go on very much as the children do for there is the lazy, dandified man, who gets up late, and prinks ;
;
the cross man,
who
swears at the shed-door
won't shut; the fatherly man,
who
sits
among
children every evening; and the cheery old in the attic,
who
The women,
it
his
man up
has a flower in his window, and
looks out at the world with very serene smile as
when
my
too,
much
the same
orange-colored baby.
keep house, make
calls,
and play
AUNT
156
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
mother; and some don't do it well either. The forlorn baby's mamma never seems to cuddle and com-
and some day, when the little fist lies cold wish she had. Then the
fort
him
and
quiet, I'm afraid she'll
;
naughty boy's mother. I'm very sure, if she put her arms round him sometimes, and smoothed that rough head of
his,
can speak, that
it
and spoke to him
as only
would tame him
far better
the scoldings and thrashings true boy's heart,
warm and
;
for I
tender,
than
there
is
a
somewhere under
the jacket that gets dusted so often.
who
know
mothers
As
for the fine
her children do as they can, while she lady trims her bonnet, or makes panniers, I wouldn't be lets
introduced to her on any account.
might think
it
was
But
unjustifiable curiosity
to see these things,
and an actionable
some
as
on
my
part
offence to
speak of them, I won't mention them. I sometimes \vonder if the kind spirits
an interest in mortals ever take a look
who
at us
feel
on the
shady side which we don't show the world, seeing we think no one
the trouble, vanities, and sins which
knows.
If they love, pity, or
condemn us ?
What
BACK WINDOWS. records they keep, and for those
who
any
inquisitive
what rewards they prepare work and play
are so busy with their
that they forget
windows with
157
who may be watching
their
back
and truer charity than old lady with a pen in her hand ?
clearer eyes
AUNT
158
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
LITTLE MARIE OF LEHON. "
T TERE comes our pretty A Kate, as we sat
little girl," I said
resting
on the
the footpath that leads from Dinan on the
Lehon
to
seat beside hill
to
in the valley.
Yes, there she was, trotting toward us in her cap, blue woollen gown, white apron, and wooden shoes. On her head was a loaf of buck-
round
wheat bread basket goat,
full
as big as a small wheel, in one
of green
who seemed
in
stuff,
hand a
while the other led an old
no hurry to get home.
often seen this rosy, bright-eyed child, had
We had nodded
to her, but never spoken, for she looked rather shy
and always seemed in haste. Now the sight of the goat reminded us of an excuse for addressing her,
and little
as she
was about
to pass with the respectful
curtsey of the country,
French
:
my
friend
said
in
LITTLE MARIE OF LEHON.
159
"Stay, please. I want to speak to you." She stopped at once and stood looking at us under her long eyelashes in a timid, yet confiding way, very pretty to see. " want to drink goat's milk every morning
We
can you "
let us
have
it,
little
Oh, yes, mademoiselle
!
one ?
:
"
Nannette gives
fine milk,
and no one has yet engaged her," answered the her whole face brightening at the prospect.
child,
"
"
What name have you ? "Marie Rosier, mademoiselle." " And
you
live at
Lehon ?
"
"
Yes, mademoiselle." " " Have you parents ? " of the best. Truly, yes,
my
mother works
Yvon, and
I
nurse
Bebe."
little
"What "
At
in the field
My father and
go to school and care
has a loom,
mill with brother for
Nannette and
school?"
the convent, mademoiselle.
The good
sisters
teach us the catechism, also to write and read and sew.
I like
it
much," and Marie glaheed at the
AUNT
160
prayer in her apron pocket, as
little
show she could read
"What a
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
Ten
proud to
we
often see
age have you?"
years, mademoiselle."
" You are young to do so much, for
you
if
it.
in the
market buying and
selling,
and sometimes
digging in your garden there below, and bringing water from the river. Do you love work as well as
school?" "
Ah, no ; but mademoiselle knows it is necessary ; every one does, and I am glad to do my works much harder than I, and the Yvon part. to
work
father sits all suffers little
much.
day
at his loom, yet
Yes, I
am
he
is
sick
and
truly glad to help," and
Marie settled the big loaf as
if quite
ready to
bear her share of the burdens. " Shall we go and see your father about the goat ? and if he agrees will you bring the milk fresh and
warm
every morning?" I asked, thinking that a would brighten our days
sight of that blooming face for us.
"
Oh, yes
!
"I
always do
it for
the ladies, and you
LITTLE MARIE OF LEUON.
161
milk quite fresh and warm, hey, Nan-
will find the
nette ?" and Marie laughed as she pulled the goat from
the hedge where she was nibbling the young leaves.
We down narrow
followed the child as she went clattering
the
stony path, and soon came into the bounded on one side by the row of
street
low, stone houses,
and on the other by the green,
wet meadow
of willows, and the rapid mill-
All along this side of the road sat
stream.
and
full
children, stripping the
A
to be used in basket-making.
a cheerful one; for the
women
bark from willow twigs
women
busy sight and
gossiped in their
high, clear voices, the children sang
and the babies crept about
as
and laughed,
freely
as
young
lambs.
We
found Marie's home a very poor one. Only in the little hut, the lower one with its
two rooms
floor, beds in the wall, smoky fire, and window where the loom stood. At it sat a pale, dark man who stopped work as we entered, and seemed glad to rest while we talked to him, or
earthern single
rather while
Kate
did, for I could not 11
understand
AUNT
162 his
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
odd French, and preferred to watch Marie during
the making of the bargain.
Yvon, a stout lad of twelve, was cutting up brush with an old sickle, and little Bebe, looking like a Dutch doll in her tiny round cap, tight blue gown, and bits of sabots, clung to Marie as she got the supper.
I
wondered what the children
at
home would
have said to such a supper. A few cabbage leaves made the soup, and this, with the dry black bread
and a
sip
of sour wine, was
were no plates or bowls, but the heavy
wooden
all
they had.
There
little
hollow places in
table near the
edge, and into
these fixed cups Marie ladled the soup, giving each
a wooden spoon from a queer rack in the middle; the kettle stood at one end, the big loaf lay at
the other, and
all
stood round eating out of their
troughs, with Nannette and a rough
dog close any crusts that might be left. Presently the mother came in, a true Breton woman; rosy and robust, neat and cheery, though her poor clothes were patched all over, her hands little
by
to receive
LITTLE MARIE OF LEHON.
163
more rough and worn with Lard work than any I ever saw, and the fine hair under her picturesque cap gray at thirty with much care. I saw then where Marie got the brightness that seemed to shine in every feature of her little face, for the mother's
coming was
like a ray of sunshine
that dark place, and she
in
and look
Our left
little
them
francs
had a
friendly
word
for every one.
arrangement was soon made, and we smiling and nodding as if the few
all
we were
to
pay would be a fortune to
them.
we were wakened by Franwho came up to announce that milk had arrived. Then we heard a
Early next morning coise
the maid,
the goat's
queer, quick, tapping sound on the stairs,
and to our
great amusement, Nannette walked into the room, straight
up to
my bedside,
and stood there looking
me
with her mild yellow eyes as if she was quite used to seeing night-caps. Marie followed with a at
little bowl in her hand, and said, laughing our surprise, " See, dear mademoiselle ; in this
pretty at
AUNT
164
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
way I make sure that the milk is quite fresh and warm;" and kneeling down, she milked the bowl full in
a twinkling, while Nannette quietly chewed
her cud and sniffed at a plate of
rolls
on the
table.
The warm draught was delicious, and we drank each our portion with much merriment. "It is our custom," said Fran9oise; who stood by with her arms
folded,
and looked on in a
lofty
manner.
"What had you
for
your own breakfast?"
I
asked, as I caught Marie's eye hungrily fixed on the rolls left
and some tempting little cakes of chocolate from our lunch the day before.
"My good
bread, as usual, mademoiselle, also sor-
and water," answered Marie, as
rel salad
and
trying to
make
"Will you
if
the most of her scanty meal.
eat the
rolls
and put the chocolate You must be
your pocket to nibble at school ? tired with this long walk so early."
in
She
low
hesitated, but could not resist
;
tone, as she held the bread in her
eating
it,
and said
in a
hand without
LITTLE MARIE OF LEHON.
165
"Would Bebe?
mademoiselle be angry if I took it to She has never tasted the beautiful white
bread, and
it
would please her much."
I emptied the plate into her basket, tucked in the
and added a gay picture for baby, which unexpected treasures caused Marie to clasp her chocolate,
hands and turn quite red with
delight.
After that she came daily, and times with old Nannette and her
whom we grateful
we had merry little
mistress,
soon learned to love, so busy, blithe, and
was
she.
We soon found a new way to
employ her, for the boy who drove our donkey did not suit us, and we got the donkey- woman to let us have Marie in the afternoon that,
when her
and so did we
;
lessons for she
were done.
the nature of donkeys, and could
out so
much
necessary.
big
women
She liked
seemed to understand
manage them with-
beating and shouting as the boy thought
Such pleasant drives as we had, we two in the droll wagon, drawn by the lit-
gray donkey that looked as if made of an old trunk, so rusty and rough was he as he went trottle
AUNT
166
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
ting along, his long ears wagging, and his small
hoofs clattering over the
Marie
fine,
hard road, while
on the shaft with a long whip, talking and laughing, and giving Andre a poke now and then, crying
We teller,
sat
"
E E !
houp
!
la
" !
to
make him
go.
found her a capital little guide and storyfor her grandmother had told her all the tales
and legends of the neighborhood, and it was very them in pretty peasant
pleasant to hear her repeat
French, as
we
sat
the ruins, while Kate
among
sketched, I took notes,
and Marie held the big par-
asol over us.
Some
of these stories were charming
she told them, with her
little
;
at least as
face changing
from gay
to sad as she gesticulated most dramatically.
The romance her favorites.
when
of "Gilles de Bretagne" was one of
How
he carried
she was only twelve,
and poisoned, and and would stand
till
child-wife
his
imprisoned
at last left to starve in a
at his
bread ; for the love of give him any,
off
how he was
window
God
" !
dungeon,
crying, "Bread,
yet no one dared to
a poor peasant
woman went
in
LITTLE MARIE OF LEHON. the night and gave him half her black
167
Not
loaf.
once, but every night, for six months, though she
robbed her children to do dying,
it
And when
it.
was she who took a
priest to
he might confess through the bars of his
"So is
good, ah, so good, this poor
lips
say,
with her black eyes
that
cell.
woman!
beautiful to hear of that, mademoiselle
Marie would
he was
him
" !
full,
It
little
and her
trembling.
But the story she liked best of all was about the peasant girl and her grandmother. " See then, dear ladies, it was in this way. In the time of the great war because
it
many poor
people were shot
was feared they would burn the chateaus.
In one of these so sad parties being driven to St. to be shot, was this young girl. Only fifteen,
Malo
how young
dear ladies, behold
is
this
!
and see the
brave thing she did With her went the old grandmother whom she loved next the good God. They !
went
slowly, she
was
so old,
who guarded them had
and one of the
officers
pity on the pretty girl, and said to her as they were a little apart from the rest,
AUNT
168 1
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
Come,*you are young and can run. I will save you a pity so fine a little girl be shot.'
;
it is
"
Then '
ing,
with is
And me ?
she was glad and thanked him much, saythe grandmother also '
*
?
You will
save her
It is impossible,' says the officer.
too old to run.
I can save but one,
and her
'
She
life is
nearly over ; let her go, and do you fly into the next
wood.
I will not betray you,
with the gang "
Then
it
will
be too
the great temptation of Satan came to this
She had no wish to
girl.
and w^hen we come up
late to find you.'
suffer,
but she could not
good old grandmere to die alone. She wept, she prayed, and the saints gave her courage. " No, I will not go,' she said'; and in the morning at leave the
'
St.
Malo she was shot with the old mother in her arms."
" Could
you do that
"
your grandmere ? I once asked, as she stopped for breath, because this tale for
always excited her. She crossed herself devoutly, and answered with fire in her eyes and a resolute gesture of her
little
brown hands,
" I should try, mademoiselle."
I think she would, and succeed, too, for she
was a
LITTLE MARIE OF LEHON. brave and tender-hearted
child,
169
as she soon after
proved.
A long drought parched the whole country that summer, and the gardens suffered much, especially the little plats in Lehon, for most of them were on the steep hillside behind the huts, and unless it rained water had to be carried up from the stream
The cabbages and onions on which poor people depend, when fresh salads are below.
these
gone,
were dying in the baked earth, and a hard winter
was before them
The
if this little store failed.
prayed for rain in the churches, and long processions streamed out of the gates to visit the old stone cross called the " Croix de Saint Esprit," priests
and, kneeling there in crowds, the people implored
the blessing of rain to save their harvest. great pity for them, but liked
little
Marie's
We felt way
of
praying best.
She did not come one morning, but sent her brother,
who only laughed, and said Marie had hurt her foot, when we inquired for her. Anxious to know if she was really ill we went to see her in the afternoon,
-
AUNT
170
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
and heard a pretty
little
story of practical Chris-
tianity.
Marie lay asleep on her mother's bed in the
and her
wall,
by her, told the tale in a low now and then to look at her, as if his voice, pausing little daughter had done something to be proud of. father, sitting
was an old woman, by fire, and not quite sane as the people thought. She was harmless, but never showed herself by day, and only came out at night to work It
seems that
in the village there
frightfully disfigured
in her garden or take the
air.
Many of the
ignorant
peasants feared her, however, for the country abounds in fairy legends, lins.
and strange
But the more
and took
tales of ghosts
and gob-
charitable left bread at her door,
in return the hose she knit or the thread
she spun. '
During the drought
it
was observed that her gar-
den, though the steepest and stoniest, was never
dry; her cabbages flourished when her neighbors' withered, and her onions stood up green and as if
some
special rain-spirit
tall
watched over them.
People wondered and shook their heads, but could
LITTLE MARIE OF LEHON. not explain to
carry
it,
for
171
Mother Lobineau was too infirm
much water up
the steep path, and
who
would help her unless some of her own goblin friends did it?
This idea was suggested by the story of a peasant returning late at night, who had seen something
white
flitting to
and
fro in the garden-patch,
and
when he called to it saw it vanish most mysteriously. This made quite a stir in the town others watched ;
saw the white phantom in the starlight, and could not tell where it went when it vanished
also,
behind the chestnut trees on the braver than the
rest,
The
and discovered the mystery. in her little shift,
the
loft
who stepped
where she
and thence to the close against the
hill, till
one man,
hid himself behind these trees
slept hill,
sprite
was Marie,
out of the
window of
on to a bough of the tree, house was built so
for the
bank that
it
was " but a step from
garret to garden," as they say in Morlaix.
In trying to escape from this inquisitive neighbor,
Marie hur.t her foot, but was caught, and confessed that it
was she who went
at night to
water poor Mother
AUNT
172
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
Lobineau's cabbages ; because if they failed the old
woman might
starve,
and no one
her destitute and helpless
else
remembered
state.
The good-hearted people were much touched this silent
by
one's
self,
sermon on loving one's neighbor as
and Marie was
and tended
called
the "little saint,"
by all the good women. Just as the story ended, she woke up, and at first seemed inclined to hide under the bedclothes. But we had carefully
her out in a minute, and presently she was laughing over her good deed, with a true child's enjoyment of a bit of roguery, saying in her simple way,-
"Yes;
it
was
so droll to
go running about en
chemise, like the girl in the tale of the
'Midsummer
Eve,' where she pulls the Saint Johnswort flower, and has her wish to hear all the creatures talk. I liked
it
much, and Yvon
that he never heard
me
slept so like the
dormouse
creep in and out.
It
was
hard to bring much water, but the poor cabbages were so glad, and Mother Lobineau felt that all had not forgotten her." took care that
We
little
Saint Marie was not
LITTLE MARIE OF LEHON. forgotten, but quite well,
firmation
and
for
when
and
all
ready for her con-
the day came. This
her sake
Sauveur to see
we went
is
a pretty sight,
to the old church of St.
It
was a bright spring day, and
full
of early flowers, the quaint
it.
the gardens were
173
gay with proud fathers and mothers in holiday dress, and flocks of strangers pausing to see the long procession of little girls with white caps and streets
veils,
gloves and gowns, prayer-books and rosaries,
winding through the sunny square into the shadowy church with chanting and candles, garlands and crosses.
The
old priest
was too
but the young one
ill
to perform the service,
who took
his place
announced,
would pass the house the good old man would bless them from his balcony. That was the best of all, and a sweet sight, after it
was
over, that if they
as the feeble, fatherly old priest leaned
from
his
easy-chair to stretch his trembling hands over the little flock
so like a
bed of snowdrops, while the
bright eyes and rosy faces looked reverently up at him, and the fresh voices chanted the responses
AUNT
174
as the curly heads
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
under the long
bowed and
veils
passed by.
We
learned afterward that our Marie had been
called in
and praised
for her secret charity,
honor, because the good priest was
by
all his flock,
a great
much beloved
and took a most paternal
interest
in the little ones.
That was almost the friend, for
we
left
last
we saw
Dinan soon
of our
after,
Lehon family good-by, and leaving
little
bidding the
certain
warm
Marie cried and clung to us at parting, then smiled like an April day, and waved her hand as we went away, never expecting souvenirs for winter-time.
any more. But the next morning, just
to see her
as
we were
stepping
on board the steamer to go down the Ranee to Malo, we saw
a
little
white
St.
cap come bobbing
through the market-place, down the steep and presently Marie appeared with two
street,
great
bunches of pale yellow primroses and wild blue hyacinths in one hand, while the other held her sabots that she might run the faster.
Rosy and
LITTLE MARIE OF LEHON. smiling and breathless with haste she
up to us, crying, " Behold my souvenir
came racing
for the dear ladies.
not cry now. No; I am glad the day JBon voyage ! bon voyage ! "
We thanked
175
and kissed and
left
is
I do
so fine.
her on the shore,
bravely trying not to cry, as she waved her wooden shoes and kissed her hand
till
we were
out of sight,
and had nothing but the soft colors and sweet breath of our nosegays to remind us of Little Marie of Lehon.
AUNT
176
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
MY MAY-DAY AMONG CURIOUS AND
BIRDS
BEASTS.
"D EING alone in London, yet wishing to celebrate ^-*
the day, I decided to pay
my respects
it
to the
A lovely place
lions at the the Zoological Gardens.
was, and I enjoyed myself immensely ; for
day in England is just what sunny, flowery, and spring-like.
it
May-
should be, mild,
As
I
walked along
the well-kept paths, between white and rosy hawthorn hedges, I kept coming upon new and curious sights
;
for
the birds and beasts are so skilfully
arranged, that
it
is
more
like travelling
strange and pleasant country than
through a
visiting a
men-
agerie.
The
first
thing I saw was a great American bison
;
and I was so glad to meet with any one from home, that I'd have patted him with pleasure, if he had
shown any
cordiality
toward me.
He
didn't,
ever, but stared savagely with his fiery eyes,
how-
and put
MAY-DAY AMONG BIRDS AND BEASTS. 177 down
immense head with a
his
he'd have tossed
me
with great
sullen snort, as if satisfaction.
I did
not blame him, for the poor fellow was homesick, doubtless, for his own wide prairies and the free life
he had
lost.
So
went on to the I never
were
;
I
threw him some fresh clover, and
pelicans.
knew
before
what handsome
birds they
not graceful, but with such snowy plumage,
tinged with pale pink and faint yellow.
They had
j ust
had
fed,
they gobbled up the fish, never stopping to swalit till the pouches under their bills were full;
and stood arranging their feathers with their great bills, uttering a queer cry now and then, and nodding to one another sociably. When
low
their bath,
then they leisurely emptied them, and seemed to enjoy their lunch with the grave deliberation of regular Englishmen.
Being
in a hurry to see the lions, I
went on
to the
long row of Six lions
cages, and there found a splendid sight. and lionesses, in three or four different
cages, sitting or standing in dignified attitudes,
and
eying the spectators with a mild expression in their 12
AUNT
178 fine eyes.
One
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
lioness
was
ill,
and lay on her bed,
looking very pensive, while her mate
moved
restlessly
about her, evidently anxious to do something for her, and much afflicted by her suffering. I liked this lion for, though the biggest, he was very and had a noble face.
very much, gentle,
The
tigers
were rushing about,
as tigers usually
some creeping noiselessly to and fro, some leaping up and down, and some washing their faces with their velvet paws. All looked and acted so like cats, are
;
that I wasn't at
when
all
surprised to hear one of them purr
It was a very loud and large purr, but no fireside -pussy could have done it better, and every one laughed at the sound.
the keeper scratched her head.
There were pretty spotted leopards, panthers, and smaller varieties of the same species.
I sat watch-
ing them a long
some of the
time, longing to let
wild things out for a good run, they seemed so un-
happy barred
in those small dens.
Suddenly the lions began to roar, the tigers to snarl, and all to get very much excited about something, sniffing at the openings, thrusting their
paws
MAY-DAY AMONG BIRDS AND BEASTS. through the bars, and lashing their
tails
179
impatiently.
what the trouble was, till, far down saw a man with a barrow full of lumps of
I couldn't imagine
the
line, I
raw meat. This was
their dinner
;
and, as they were
fed but once a day, they were ravenous.
and howls and
down
cries as arose,
while the
Such roars
man went
gave one a good idea of the sounds to be heard in Indian forests and jungles.
slowly
The
the
line,
behaved best, for they only paced up and an occasional cry ; but the tigers were with down, frantic for they tumbled one over the other, quite lions
;
shook the cages, and tried to reach the bystanders, just out of reach behind the bar that kept us at a t
One lady had a
safe distance.
fright, for
the wind
blew the end of her shawl within reach of a great claw, and he clutched nearer.
as if a
off, and the poor lady ran whole family of wild beasts
after her.
When
the lumps of meat were thrown
curious to see
The
tiger's
trying to drag her
The shawl came
away screaming, were
it,
how
tigers snarled
in, it
was
differently the animals behaved.
and fought and tore and got
AUNT
180
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
was very grateful that they were safely In a few minutes, nothing but white bones
so savage I
shut up.
remained, and then they howled for more.
went up on a
shelf in the cage,
in a quiet, proper manner,
the
One
leopard was better bred than the others, for he
little
and ate
his dinner
which was an example to
rest.
The
lions
favorite,
but
my
his share to his sick mate,
and
ate in dignified silence,
who earned
all
by every gentle means in his power tried to make her eat. She was too ill, however, and turned away with a plaintive moan which seemed to grieve
him
sadly.
He
wouldn't touch his dinner, but lay
down if
near her, with the lump between his paws, as guarding it for her ; and there I left him patiently
waiting, in spite of his hunger,
share
it
with him.
old face, I
humming
As
till
his
mate could
I took a last look at his fine
named him Douglas, and walked away,
to myself the lines of the ballad,
"Dougks, Douglas, Tender and true."
As
a contrast to the wild beasts, I went to see the
MAY-DAY AMONG BIRDS AND BEASTS. 181 monkeys who lived in a fine large house, all to themHere was every variety, from the great selves. ugly chimpanzee to the funny little fellows who played like boys, and cut up all sorts of capers. mamma sat tending her baby, and looking so like
A
old woman that I laughed till the gray the blue nose scolded at me. He was with monkey a cross old party, and sat huddled up in the straw, a
little
at
scowling
every one, like an ill-tempered old
Half a dozen
bachelor.
little
ones teased him cap-
by dropping bits of bread, nut-shells, and straws down on him from above, as they climbed
itally
about the perches or swung by their
tails.
One
poor little chap had lost the curly end of his tail, I'm afraid the gray one bit it off, and kept trying to swing like the others, forgetting that the strong,
curly end
was what he held on with.
He would
run up the bare boughs, and give a jump, expecting to catch and swing, but the lame tail wouldn't hold him, and
At
first
amazed
down he'd
sit
he'd go, bounce on to the straw.
and stare about him, as
to find himself there
;
if
much
theft he'd scratch his
AUNT
182 little
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
round head, and begin to scold
violently,
which
seemed to delight the other monkeys; and finally, he'd examine his poor little tail, and appear to understand the misfortune which had befallen him.
The funny
expression of his face was irresistible,
him very much, and gave him a bun to comfort him when I went away. The snake-house came next, and I went in, on my and
I enjoyed seeing
way
to visit the rhinoceros family.
I rather like
had a tame green one, who lived under the doorstep, and would come out and play snakes, since I
with
me on sunny
These snakes
days.
interesting, only they got
I found very under their blankets and
wouldn't come out, and I wasn't allowed to poke
them
An
;
so I missed seeing several of the
ugly cobra laid and blinked at
me
most
through the There
glass, looking quite as
dangerous as he was.
were big and
snakes,
little
black,
curious.
brown, and
speckled, lively and lazy, pretty and plain ones,
but I liked the great boa best.
When
I
came to
but the branch of a
his cage, I didn't see tree,
any thing such as I had seen in other
MAY-DAY AMONG BIRDS AND BEASTS. 183 cages, for ihe snakes to is
wind up and down.
" Where
he, I wonder ? I hope he hasn't got out," I said to
myself, thinking of a story I read once of a person
who turned suddenly and saw a As I stood wondering if the big worm could be under the little flat blanket before me, the branch began to move all at once, and with a start, I saw a limb swing down in a menagerie,
great boa gliding toward him.
to stare at
was so
me
with the boa's glittering eyes.
so exactly the color of the bare bough,
still,
I
had not seen him
till
He
and lay
he came to take a
look at me.
A
was, and I
grateful that I didn't live in a country
felt
very villainous looking reptile he
where such unpleasant neighbors might pop in upon you unexpectedly. He was kind enough to take a
promenade and show immense,
as
me
his
size,
which seemed
he stretched himself, and then knotted
body into a great loop, with the head in the middle. He was not one of
his rough, grayish
fiery-eyed
the largest left
him
kind, but I
was quite satisfied, and which I hadn't the
to his dinner of rabbits,
heart to stay and see
him devour
alive.
AUNT
184 I all
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
was walking toward the camel's pagoda, when,
of a sudden a long, dark, curling thing came over
my
shoulder,
and I
felt
warm
breath in
my
face.
boa!" I thought, and gave a skip which carried me into the hedge, where I stuck, much to
"It's the
the amusement of some children riding on the ele-
phant whose trunk had frightened me. politely tried to tell
me
He had
to clear the way, which I
had done with all speed. Picking myself out of the hedge, I walked beside him, examining certainly
his
clumsy
feet,
and peering up
at his small, intel-
I'm very sure he winked at me, as if the joke, and kept poking his trunk into enjoying
ligent eye.
my I
pocket, hoping to find something eatable. felt as if I
I looked about
had got into a foreign countiy as elephants and camels
me and saw
walking among the trees;
flocks
of snow-white
cranes stalking over the grass, on their long scarlet legs
;
striped zebras racing in their
kangaroos hopping about, with
paddock
little
;
queer
ones in their
pouches; pretty antelopes chasing one another; and, in an immense wire-covered aviary, all sorts
MAY-DAY AMONG BIRDS AND BEASTS. of brilliant birds were flying about, as gaily as
185 if at
home. the curiosities was a sea-cow,
One of a tank of
salt water,
to kiss him,
and flounder on
margin of the tank a
only
seal,
of two. liquid
;
much
Its eyes
but
and came
its
its flippers
after a fish.
larger,
were
lovely, so
The
at'
it
along the like
fins instead
soft
and
and I declined
was ready
to dis-
word of command.
great polar bear lived next door, and spent
his time splashing in
sitting
lived in
was very
dark and
pretty,
one of the damp kisses which pense
It
and had four
mouth was not
who
at the keeper's call
and out of a pool of water, or
on a block of
ice,
panting, as
if
the mild
spring day was blazing midsummer. He looked very unhappy, and I thought it a pity that they didn't invent a big refrigerator for him.
These are not half of the wonderful creatures I saw, but I have not
room
to tell
more; only I
who can to pay a visit to the Zoological Gardens when they go to London, for it is one of
advise
all
the most interesting sights in that fine old city.
AUNT
186
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
OUR LITTLE NEWSBOY. T TURRYING
to catch a certain car at a certain
corner late one stormy night, I was suddenly arrested by the sight of a queer-looking bundle lying in a door- way. " Bless
my
he's frozen
it's
heart,
"
a child
I exclaimed to
!
O John
!
my
!
I'm afraid
brother, as
we both
bent over the bundle.
Such a
little
fellow as he was, in the big, ragged
coat, such a tired, baby
face,
under the fuzzy cap,
such a purple, little hand, still holding fast a few papers; such a pathetic sight altogether, was the boy, lying on the stone step, with the snow drifting
over him, that "
He
is
it
asleep
was impossible ;
but
to go by.
he'll freeze,
if left
so long.
up, my boy, and go home, as fast as you can," cried John, with a gentle shake, and a very
Here
!
wake
gentle voice
;
for the
memory
of a dear
little lad,
OUR LITTLE NEWSBOY. safely tucked
home, made him fatherly kind
at
up
187
to the small vagabond.
The moment he was touched, the boy tumbled was half awake, began
up, and, before he
with an eye to business. Herald!' "Paper, sir?
his usual
cry,
'Transkip!'
Last"
a great gape swallowed up the " last edition,"
and he
stood blinking at us like a very chilly young owl.
buy 'em
"I'll
chap;
it's
whisking
all
if
you'll
go home,
my
little
high time you were abed," said John,
tlie
papers into one pocket, and his
damp
purse out of another, as he spoke. " All of
boy, for "
'em ?
why,
"
there's six
!
croaked the
he was as hoarse as a raven.
Never mind,
I can kindle the fire with 'em.
that in your pocket as possible." " do
Where
you
fifty cents that
fell
numbed
it.
to hold
;
and
live ?
trot
"
home,
my
man,
I asked, picking
from the
little
"Mills Court, out of Hanover.
Put
as fast
up the
fingers, too be-
Cold, ain't it?"
said the boy, blowing on his purple hands,
and hop-
AUNT
188
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
ping feebly from one leg to the other, to take the stiffness out.
"
He
mite,
can't go all that way in this storm, such a and so used up with cold and sleep, John."
"Of "
No
;
when
I've got ter wait for
Sam.
He
;
and so I'm
He'll be along said he
would
;
waitin'."
Who is Sam ? " I
"He's the folks,
in a car,"
the boy wheezed out,
as soon's the theatre's done.
"
him
course he can't; we'll put
began John
asked.
feller I lives with.
and he takes care
o'
I
ain't
got any
me."
"
Nice care, indeed ; leaving a baby like you to wait for him here such a night as this," I said crossly.
"
Oh, he's good to me Sam is, though he does knock me round sometimes, when I ain't spry. The big
and
fellers
shoves
me
and has to work 'em "
Hear the
and
I gets cold,
so I don't sell
my papers,
back, you see
can't sing out loud
;
;
off late."
child talk
!
One would
think he was
sixteen, instead of six," I said, half laughing.
OUR LITTLE NEWSBOY. " I'm 'most ten.
Hi
!
ain't that
the boy, as a gust of sleet slapped
when he peeped
to see if
out
folks gone,
and Sam's forgot me."
It
him
?
"
cried
in the face, " Hullo !
the play's done, and the
is
little
a oner
Sam was coming.
the lights
Why,
!
189
was very evident that Sam had forgotten his protege ; and a strong desire to shake Sam
possessed me. " No use waitin'
any longer
I ain't afraid
is sold,
to
;
and now
my papers
go home," said the boy,
stepping down like a little old man with the rheumatism, and preparing to trudge away through the storm.
"
Stop a
my little
bit,
Casabianca ; a car will be
along in fifteen minutes ; and while waiting you can warm yourself over there," said John, with the purple hand in "
My
sir,"
his.
name's Jack
Hill,
not Gassy Banks, please,
said the little party, with dignity.
" " Have you had your supper, Mr. Hill ? asked John laughing. "I had some peanuts, and two sucks of Joe's
orange
;
but
it
warn't very
fillin',"
he
said, gravely.
AUNT
190
"I should think
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
Here
not.
quick, please," cried John, as
we
one stew; and be
!
down
sat
in a
warm
corner of the confectioner's opposite. "While
Jack shovelled in the hot
little
oysters,
with his eyes shutting up now and then, in spite of himself, we looked at him, and thought again of
the
warm
Rosy-face at home, safe in his
little
mother-love watching over him. ragged, grimy,
forlorn,
ping asleep over his
nest,
with
Xodding toward
little
creature, drop-
supper like a tired baby, I
said,
"
Can you imagine our Freddy out alone at this work off' his papers, because afraid
hour, trying to to go
home
"Fd winking
till
*
he has ? "
rather not try,"
answered brother John, head beside
hard, as he stroked the little
him, which, by the by, looked very like a ragged, yellow door mat. I think brother John winked hard,
but I can't be
sure, for I
know
I did;
minute there seemed to be a dozen dancing before my eyes. " There goes our car ; and looking at
me.
it's
little
and
for a
newsboys
the last," said John,
OUR LITTLE NEWSBOY. "Let frowned
it
go, but
at
John
"Here
is
boy;" and I
don't leave the
for hinting
such a thing.
Now, my
his car.
191
lad, bolt
last
your
and come on."
oyster, "
Good-night,
grateful
ma'am
!
sir
thankee, the child
little voice, as
" 1
croaked the
was caught up
in
John's strong hands and set down on the car-step. With a word to the conductor, and a small business transaction,
we
left
Jack coiled up in a corner, it wasn't mid-
to finish his nap as tranquilly as if
and a "knocking round" might not await
night,
him
at his journey's end.
We home
;
mind the storm much, as we plodded and when I told the story to Rosy-face, next
didn't
day, his interest quite reconciled
and sneezes of a bad
"If I saw that poor love
him
lots
" !
me
to the sniffs
cold. little
boy,
Aunt
Jo,
Td
said Freddy, with a world of pity
in his beautiful child's eyes.
And, believing that others little
Jack, and such as he, I
When
also
tell
would be kind to
the story.
busy fathers hurry home
at night, I
hope
AUNT
192
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
they'll buy their papers of the small boys, " shoved back " the feeble who
ones,
;
and
can't " sing out
who
grow
get
hoarse,
"
the shabby ones, who, evidently, have only forgetful Sams to care for them and the hungry-looking ones, who don't get what is ;
;
" fillin'."
For love of the
little
sons and daughters
home, say a kind word, buy a paper, even if you don't want it ; and never pass by, leaving them to sleep forgotten in the streets at midnight, with safe at
no pillow but a stone, no coverlet but the pitiless snow, and not even a tender-hearted robin to drop leaves over them.
PATTY'S PATCHWORK.
193
PATTY'S PATCHWORK.
T PERFECTLY hate it * it,"
!
and something dreadful
ought to be done to the
woman who
invented
shower of gay a small whirlwind
said Patty, in a pet, sending a
pieces flying over the carpet as if
and a rainbow had got into a quarrel. Puss did not agree with Patty, for,
after a sur-
when the flurry came, she calmly laid, down on a red square, purring comfortably
prised hop herself
and winking her yellow eyes, as if she thanked the the bright bed that set off her white fur
little girl for
so prettily. This cool performance laugh and say more pleasantly, "
"
my
Well,
it is
Sometimes dear,
tiresome, isn't ;
but we
all
it,
made Patty
Aunt Pen ? "
have to make patchwork,
and do the best we can with the pieces
given us."
"Do we?" and
Patty opened her eyes in great
astonishment at this
new
idea. 13
AUNT
194
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
"Our lives are patchwork, and it depends on us a good deal how the bright and dark bits get put together so that .the whole is neat, pretty, and useful when
it is
done," said
Aunt Pen
soberly.
"Deary me, now she is going to preach," thought Patty ; but she rather liked Aunt Pen's preachments, for a
izing
good deal of fun got mixed up with the moraland she was so good herself that children could
;
never say in their naughty just as
bad
as we, so
little
minds,
"
You
are
you needn't talk to us, ma'am."
"I gave you that patchwork to see what you would make of it, and it is as good as a diary to me, can tell by the different squares how you felt when you made them," continued Aunt Pen, with a for I
twinkle in her eye as she glanced at the many-col-
ored bits on the carpet.
"Can you truly? just try and see," and Patty looked interested at once. Pointing with the yard-measure, Aunt Pen said, tapping a certain dingy, puckered, brown and purple square,
" That
is
a bad day ; don't
it
look so
?
"
PATTY'S PATCHWORK. "
it
Well,
was, I do declare
for that
was the Mon-
when every thing went wrong and I
day
piece,
care
how my work
Aunt Pen's
skill in
a good day
this
;
didn't
looked," cried Patty, surprised at
reading the calico diary.
" This pretty pink is
!
195
and white one so neatly sewed red, blue, and
funny mixture of
yellow with the big stitches is a merry day ; that one with spots on it is one that got cried over this with ;
the gay flowers
a day full of
good
little
plans and
and that one made of dainty bits, all and dots and tiny leaves, is the one you made
resolutions stars
is
;
when you were
thinking about the dear
there at home." " Aunt
Pen, you are a fairy
Why,
know? they
truly are just as
can remember.
you
!
new baby
How
did you
say, as near as I
I rather like that sort of patchwork,"
and Patty sat down upon the floor to collect, examine, and arrange her discarded work with a new interest in
"I
it.
see
my mind make
what
is
this a
going on, and I have queer plays in
you little folks do. Suppose you moral bed-quilt as some people make
just as
AUNT
196 album
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
See
quilts.
how much
patience, persever-
good nature, and industry you can put into it. Every bit will have a lesson or a story, and when ance,
under
will find
you
lie
said
Aunt Pen, who wanted
it
you
it
a real comforter,"
amuse the child and
to
teach her something better even than the good oldfashioned accomplishment of needlework. " I don't see
how I can put that sort of thing into answered it," Patty, as she gently lifted puss into her lap, instead of twitching the red bit roughly from under
her.
" There eroes a nice o
little .
of kindness this piece *
very minute," laughed Aunt Pen, pointing to the cat and the red square.
Patty laughed
also,
and looked pleased
stroke^ Mother Bunch, while
she
as she
said thought-
fully,-
"I
see
what you mean now.
I
am making two
kinds of patchwork at the same time I see
is
to
remind
me
;
and
this that
of the other kind that I don't
see."
"
Every
task,
no matter
how
small or homely, that
PATTY'S PATCHWORK. and cheerfully done,
gets well
we
is
197
a fine thing ; and
up the dark and bright bits (the pleasures and pains, the cares and duties) into a cheerful, useful life, the sooner we become the sooner
learn to use
real comforters,
Don't you
us.
" That's
and every one see,
deary ?
what you
are,
likes to
cuddle about
"
Aunt Pen
" ;
and Patty put
up her hand to hold fast by that other strong, kind, helpful
hand that did so much, yet never was
tired,
cold, or
empty. Aunt Pen took the chubby
own, and as she
tient
little
one in both her
yet with meaning in her eyes,
tapped the small forefinger, rough with impa-
and
" Shall
we
said, smiling,
unskilful sewing,
we
try and see
what a nice
little
comforter
can make this month, while you wait to be called
home
to see
"Yes, I'd
and the dear new baby ? " to try;" and Patty gave Aunt
mamma like
Pen's hand a hearty shake, for she wanted to be good, and rather thought the a charm to the task which
some and hard.
new fancy would we all find rather
lend tire-
AUNT
198
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
So the bargain was made, and the patch Patty sewed that day was beautiful to behold for she was in a delightfully moral state of mind, and felt quite ;
sure that she
was going to become a model
for all
The next day her
-children to follow, if they could.
ardor had cooled a
little, and being in a hurry to go out to play, she slighted her work, thinking no one
would know.
But the
third
with her patch that she tore it
was
all
nonsense to fuss about being good and
thorough and
Aunt Pen and
finish
day she got so angry in two, and declared
it
all
the rest of
it.
made her mend
did not say much, but
her patch and add
it
to the pile.
she went to bed that night Patty thought of
wished she could do as
it
it
over,
it
After it,
and
looked so badly. But
could not be, she had a penitent
fit,
and resolved
to keep her temper while she sewed, at any rate, for
mamma was
to see the
little quilt
and would want to know
Of course all the time,
chief and
all
when
about
it
was done,
it.
she did not devote herself to being good
but spent her days in lessons, play, mis-
fun, like
any other
lively, ten-year-older.
PATTY'S PATCHWORK.
199
But somehow, whenever the sewing-hour came, she remembered that talk and as she worked she fell ;
into the
of wondering whether
way
Aunt Pen could
guess from the patches what sort of days she had She wanted to try and see, but Aunt Pen passed. refused to read any
more
calico
the quilt was
till
done: tken, she said in a queer, solemn way, she
make
should
the good and bad days appear in a
remarkable manner.
This puzzled Patty very much, and she quite ached to know what the joke would be meantime the pile grew steadily, and every day, good or bad, ;
added to that other work called Patty's did not think
much about
that part of
it,
She
life.
but uncon-
sciously the quiet sewing-time had its influence on and that little " conscience hour," as she some-
her,
times called
One day work,
"
it,
Now
naughty
helped her very much.
she said to herself as she took up her I'll
this very- nicely
see
how
ing."
puzzle
Aunt Pen.
tricks get into the patches
and have
it
She thinks ;
but
I'll
my
make
gay, and then I don't
she will ever guess what I did this morn-
AUNT
200
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
Now
you must know that Tweedle-dee the canwas let out every day to fly about the room ary, and enjoy himself. Mother Bunch never tried to catch him, though he often hopped temptingly near her.
watch
He was his
a droll
and Patty liked to he did funny things.
little bird,
promenades,
for
That day he had made her laugh by trying to
away with a which to
fly
shawl, picking up the fringe with
line the nest
he was always trying to build.
was so heavy he tumbled on his back and lay kicking and pulling, but had to give it up and conIt
tent himself with a bit of thread.
Patty was forbidden to chase or touch him at felt a strong desire to have
these times, but always
just one grab at him and see how he felt. That day, being alone in the dining-room, she found it impossible to resist; and when Tweedle-dee came trip-
ping pertly over the table-cloth, cocking his head on one side with shrill chirps and little prancings, she caught him, and for a minute held him spite of his wrathful pecking.
She put her thimble on
fast in
his head, laughing to see
PATTY'S PATCHWORK. how funny he
looked, and just then he slipped out
She clutched
of her hand. alas, alas
!
he
201
at him, missed him,
left his little tail
behind him.
but
Every
little tail, I do assure you; Patty with the yellow plumes in her hand and dismay in her face. Poor Tweedle-dee
feather in his blessed
and there
sat
retired to his cage
much
afflicted,
that day, but Patty hid the lost
a word about " Aunt
Pen
and sung no more and never said
tail
it.
is
so near-sighted she won't mind,
and
maybe he will have another tail pretty soon, or she will think he is moulting. If she asks of course I shall tell her."
Patty settled
it
in that way, forgetting that the
was open and Aunt Pen in the kitchen. So she made a neat blue and buff patch, and put it slide
away, meaning to puzzle aunty when the readingtime came. But Patty got the worst of it, as you will see
by and
by.
Another day she strolled into the store-room and saw a large tray of fresh buns standing there. Now, it
was against the
rule to eat
between meals, and
'
202
new
v
AUNT
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
hot bread or cake was especially forbidden.
Patty remembered both these things, but could not One plump, brown bun, with a
resist temptation.
plum right was impossible
lovely it it
in the middle,
to let
it
alone
;
was so
fascinating
so Patty
whipped
into her pocket, ran to the garden, and hiding
behind the big lilac-bush, ate it in a great hurry. It was just out of the oven, and so hot it burned her throat, and lay like a live coal in her
stomach
after it
little
was down, making her very uncom-
fortable for several hours.
"
Why do you keep
sighing ?
"
asked Aunt Pen, as
Patty sat down to her work.
"I
don't feel very well."
" You have eaten something that disagrees with " you. Did you eat hot biscuits for breakfast ?
"
No, ma'am, I never do," and Patty gave another gasp, for the bun lay very heavily on both
little
stomach and conscience just then. "
A drop or two
of
ammonia
and Aunt Pen gave her some. right,
but the conscience
still
will set
you right," stomach
It did set the
worried her, for she
PATTY'S PATCHWORK. could not
make up her mind
203
to " fess" the sly, greedy
thing she had done. "
Put a white patch
ones," said
in the
Aunt Pen,
her daily square. " " Why ? asked the
as
middle of those green
Patty sat soberly sewing
little
girl, for
aunty seldom
interfered in her arrangement of the quilt. " It will look pretty, and match the other three
squares that are going at the corners of that middle piece."
"
will," and Patty sewed away, wondering sudden interest in her work, and why Aunt
Well, I
at this
Pen laughed to
herself as she put
away the ammonia
bottle.
These are two of the naughty little things that got worked into the quilt but there were good ones ;
and Aunt Pen's sharp eyes saw them all. At the window of a house opposite Patty often
also,
saw a
little girl
who
doll or a torn book.
sat there playing
with an old
She never seemed to run about
or go out, and Patty often
wondered
if
she was sick,
she looked so thin and sober, and was so quiet.
AUNT
204
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
Patty began by making faces
at
her for fun, but the
only smiled back, and nodded so goodnaturedly that Patty was ashamed of herself. " " Is that she asked suddenly girl over there poor ? little
girl
as she
"
watched her one day; her mother takes
Very poor
child
up from the "
Her
with a book.
:
lame," answered
is
letter she
was
shawl tied round
and she don't seem to have but one
Wonder
if she'd
to
like
and play with her," said Patty to stood her
back
and the
writing.
doll is nothing but an old
string,
in sewing,
Aunt Pen, without looking
own
have
me come
herself, as she
big doll in the window, and nodded
at the girl
who bobbed up and down
in her
chair with delight at this agreeable prospect.
" You can go and sec her some day said
Aunt Pen,
if
you
like,"
scribbling away.
Patty said no more then, but
later in the afternoon
she remembered this permission, and resolved to try if aunty would find out her good doings as well as her bad ones. So, tucking Blanche Augusta Arabella
Maud under
one arm, her best picture-book under
PATTY'S PATCHWORK. the other, and gathering a
little
205
nosegay of her own
flowers, she slipped across the road, knocked,
marched boldly
and
upstairs.
Mrs. Brown, the sewing-woman, was out, and no
one there but Lizzie in her chair at the window, looking lonely and forlorn. "
How
do you do
My name
?
is
Patty, and I live
over there, and I've come to play with you," said
one child "
How
in a friendly tone.
My name
do you do ?
What
very glad to see you.
is
Lizzie,
a lovely doll
" !
and Fin returned
the other child gratefully; and then the ceremony
of introduction was over, and they began to play as if
they had
To
known each
poor Lizzie
it
other for ever so long.
seemed
as if a little fairy
had
suddenly appeared to brighten the dismal room with flowers and smiles and pretty things ; while Patty felt
her pity and good-will increase as she saw Liz-
zie's
crippled feet, and
and glow with doll and posy.
ward
;
" sort of
watched her thin
interest
face brighten
and delight over book and
" It felt good," as Patty said after-
warm and
comfortable in
my heart,
AUNT
206 and I liked
it
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
She stayed an hour,
ever so much."
making sunshine in a shady place, and then ran home, wondering She found her
if
Aunt Pen would
sitting
find that out.
with her hands before her,
and such a sad look in her face that Patty ran to saying anxiously, " What's the matter, aunty ?
Are you
sick ?
her,
"
"No, dear; but I have sorrowful news for you.
Come
sit
in
and
my lap
let
me
tell
you
as gently as
I can."
"
Mamma
is
dead " cried Patty, with a look of !
terror in her rosy face.
"
No, thank God but the dear, new baby only stayed a week, and we shall never see her in this !
world."
With
a cry of sorrow Patty threw herself into the
arms outstretched to
her,
bosom sobbed away the
and on Aunt Pen's loving
first
and disappointment. " Oh, I wanted a little
bitterness of her grief
sister so
going to be so fond of her, and came, and
now
I can't sec or
much, and I was was so glad she
have her even
for a
PATTY'S PATCHWORK.
207
I'm so disappointed I don't think I can bear
day
!
it,"
sobbed Patty.
" Think of poor
mamma, and
bear
it
bravely for
her sake," whispered Aunt Pen, wiping away her
own and
Patty's tears.
"Oh, dear me! going to
and I
make
there's the pretty quilt I
for baby,
and now
can't bear to finish
it
afresh at the thought of so
up.
Work
you never
is
it,
love's labor lost.
so I wouldn't give
the best cure for sorrow
will be sorry
tried
you
was
isn't
any use, and Patty broke out
" ;
much
" Mamma will love to see
it
it.
;
and
it
I think
Let us put a
bright bit of submission with this dark trouble,' and
work both
into your little
life
as patiently as
we
can,
deary."
Patty put up her trembling lips, and kissed Aunt Pen, grateful for the tender sympathy and the helpful
words.
"I'll try,"
was
all
she said; and then
they sat talking quietly together about the dear,
dead baby, who only stayed long enough to make a place in every one's heart, and leave
when
she went.
them aching
AUNT
208
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
Patty did try to bear her first trouble bravely, and got on very well after the first day or two, except
when
Then
the sewing-hour came.
of the prett^ patchwork recalled the cradle
it
was meant^to
cover,
the sight
memory
of the
and reminded her that
was empty now. Many quiet tears dropped 011 Patty's work and sometimes she had to put it down
it
;
and
sob, for she
had longed so
for a little sister
it
was very hard to give her up, and put away all the loving plans she had made for the happy time when baby came. A great many tender little thoughts and feelings got
sewed
into the
showed here and
gay squares and ;
if
a small
they only added beauty in the eyes of those who knew what made them. Aunt Pen never suggested picking out stain
to
there, I think
its
certain puckered bits
knew
and grimy
that just there the
stitches,
little fingers
for she
trembled, and
the blue eyes got dim as they touched and saw the delicate, flowery bits left
Lizzie
was
full
from baby's gowns.
of sympathy, and came hopping
over on her crutches with her only treasure, a black rabbit, to console her friend.
But of all the comfort
PATTY'S PATCHWORK. given, best
;
209
Mother Bunch's share was the greatest and very first sad day, as Patty wandered
for that
about the house disconsolately, puss came hurrying to her, and in her dumb way begged her mistress
meet
and see the
to follow
Four plump
prepared for her. snow, with four gray
fine surprise
kits as white as
all wagging in a row, as they laid on their proud mamma's downy breast, while she purred over them with her yellow eyes full of supreme content.
tails
It
was
in the barn,
and Patty lay
for
an hour with
her head close to Mother Bunch, and her hands the charming little Bunches, who squeaked and tumbled and sprawled about with their dim eyes blinking, their tiny pink paws fumbsoftly touching
ling,
and
their dear gray tails
waggling in the sweetwere to Patty no
est
Such a comfort
that Mrs.
Bunch did not know
way. words could
tell,
as they
and nothing
so lay herself out to cheer
will ever convince all
up her
little
mistress like
a motherly, loving old puss, as she was. As Patty lay on the rug that evening while
Pen sung
softly in the twilight, a small, 14
me
about baby, and
Aunt
white figure
AUNT
210
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
came pattering over the straw carpet, and dropped soft, warm ball down by Patty's cheek, saying, as
a
plainly as a loud, confiding pun* could say it, " There, my dear, this is a lonely time for you, I
know, so
I've brought "
my
best and prettiest darling
and with that Mother Bunch you down and washed her face, while Patty cuddled
to comfort
;
sat lit-
Snowdrop, and forgot to cry about baby. Soon after this came a great happiness to Patty
tle
in the shape of a letter from
must have her
little girl
mamma,
back a week
saying she earlier
than
they had planned. " I'm sorry to leave you, aunty, but it is so nice to be wanted, and I'm all mamma has now, you
know, so I must hurry and prise her with.
How
shall
my work
to sur-
finish it off?
There
finish
we
ought to be something regularly splendid to go
all
round," said Patty, in a great bustle, as she laid out
her pieces, and found that only a few more were
needed to complete the "moral bed-quilt." "I must try and find something. We will put this white star, with the blue round it, in the middle,
PATTY'S PATCHWORK. and
for it is the neatest
211
prettiest piece, in spite of
I will sew in this part, and you may-
the stains.
long strips together," said Aunt Pen, rummaging her bags and bundles for something
finish putting the
fine to
end
off with.
"I know! ried Lizzie,
something!" and away hurthere, and much interested in
I've got
who was
the work.
She came hopping back again, presently, with a in her hand, which she proudly spread out,
roll
saying, " There
mother gave me that ever so long ago, but I never had any quilt to use it for, and now it's just what you want. You can't buy such chintz !
now-a-days, and I'm so glad I had " It's regularly splendid
ture
;
and so
it
" !
it
for you."
cried Patty, in a rap-
was, for the 'pink and white was
covered with animals, and the blue was
and
butterflies
possible.
and bees flying about
Really lovely were the
the clear, soft colors, and
full
all
of birds
as naturally as
little figures
and
Aunt Pen clapped her
hands, while Patty hugged her friend, and declared that the quilt
was perfect now.
AUNT
212 Mrs.
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
Brown begged
to be allowed to quilt
it
when
nicely put together, and Patty was glad to have her, for that part of the work was
the patches were
beyond her
all
It did not
skill.
morning Patty
left,
come home
without ever unrolling it. " will look at it together when
We
mamma,"
it
we show
it
up to
she said ; and Patty was in such a hurry
to be off that she
A
the
till
and Aunt Pen packed
made no
objection.
pleasant journey, a great deal of hugging and
kissing,
some
and then
mamma
it
said
tears
and tender laments
was time was
to
show the
for baby,
quilt,
which
just what she wanted to throw
over her feet as she lay on the
sofa.
Patty would have been sure they had done something to her bed-cover, for when she proudly unrolled it, what do you think If there were any
fairies,
she saw?
Right in the middle of the white
star,
which was
the centre-piece, delicately drawn with ink,
was a smiling
and under
it
little
these lines,
cherub,
all
indelible
head and wings,
PATTY'S PATCHWORK. " WhUe
Baby
Then
dear
sister
lies asleep,
watch
careful
213
in each of the four
will
keep."
gay squares that were at star, was a
the corners of the strip that framed the
white bit bearing other pictures and couplets that
both pleased and abashed Patty as she saw and read them.
In one was seen a remarkably
fine bun,
with the
lines,
"Who
stole the
And Go
ask the
Guess
it
lilac
can
In the next was a plump, to be saying mournfully,
"My little
tail,
This bitter
hot bun
got burnt well? bush,
tell."
tailless bird,
who seemed
-
my little
tail!
loss I still bewail
;
But rather ne'er have tail again Than Patty should deceive Aunt Pen."
The
third
was
less embarrassing, for it
was a pretty
bunch of flowers so daintily drawn one could almost
AUNT
214
JO'S SCRAP-BAG.
think they smelt them, and these lines were un-
derneath
:
*
Blossoms
The
to others given,
Every flower fair
and sweet in heaven."
was a picture of a curly-haired
fourth
sewing, with some very large tears rolling
child
down her
cheeks and tumbling off her lap like marbles, while
some tiny
were catching and they were very precious
sprites
with them as "
if
flying
away
:
Every tender drop that fell, Loving spirits caught and kept ;
And Patty's
sorrow lighter grew
For the gentle
tears she wept."
"
"
Oh, aunty what does it all mean ? cried Patty, who had looked both pleased and ashamed as she !
glanced from one picture to the other. "
It means, dear, that the goods and bads got into the bed-quilt in spite of you, and there they are to tell their
own
story.
The bun and the
posy you took to poor
Lizzie,
lost tail, the
and the trouble you
PATTY'S PATCHWORK. bore so sweetly.
we
don't see
it
It
is
215
just so with our lives, though
quite as clearly as this. Invisible hands
paint our faults and virtues, and
by and by wo. have
we must be careful that they and good lovely, and we are not ashamed to see them, so
to
are let
the eyes that love us best read there the history of
our
lives."
As Aunt Pen thoughtful face,
spoke,
and Patty listened with a softly drew the pictured
mamma
coverlet over her, and whispered, as she held her tle
daughter
"
My
close,
Patty will remember this ; and
if all
her
good a story as this month, I shall not to read the record, and she will be in truth my
years fear
lit-
little
tell as
comforter."
Cambridge
:
Press of
John Wilson and Son.